So apparently Winter has just phoned,
To book it's usual Reservation once more,
It will have the same Room again as last year,
And to decorate the same as before.
Now that those ‘Best Friends' Spring and Summer,
Have packed and taken their leave,
He's sent Autumn ahead to get ready,
For the Chaos their hope to achieve.
To be rid of the Gaudy new Wallpaper,
That Spring has plastered around,
And all the terrible ‘Objet d'art',
That blight and litter the ground.
It'll be Goodbye to the Green and the Golden,
That Summer has worn for a dress,
It will bleach her Colours to nothing,
And that Warm smile she gives to impress.
Autumn has already now started,
Stripping the Hedge and the Trees of their pride,
How it likes to see them all tremble,
By the breath that will be unwaveringly supplied.
And those Birds will be cleared from the Attic,
‘Go South where the Tropics do call',
To those Creatures the ‘Darlings' of Summer,
‘Be gone and to sleep with you all'.
The Windows and Doors will stay open,
The Rooms will give play to It's Will,
The Residents can curse and so Shiver,
Who cares there's a Contract to fill.
It'll be here till March if it's Lucky,
Then it will be off once more on the Road,
But in the meantime it's Room will be waiting;
Then a Mountain of Ice to unload.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem