The Happy Hours
In my garden are many birds,
some with pretty looks.
Alas, so many of my birds
are never found in birding books.
Here’s the Oinky Boing-Boing Bird,
a veritable sign of spring.
When he appears, get out the spade:
it’s time for gardening.
His legs are yellow, his face is blue,
but he’ll bring good luck to you.
When Mrs. Flowerhat comes along
the neighbors greet her with a song.
They cluster on branches in the tree
and chat together merrily.
No matter whether it’s rain or sun,
they tell tall tales about everyone.
Occasionally, it looks like rain
and then the birds don’t fly.
They vanish or they hang around
with a tear drop in their eye.
The sundial sleeps in the falling rain
and I find it really funny:
he only wants to tell the time
when the world is bright and sunny.
Horas non numero nisi serenas.
I count only the happy hours.