So much to do, so much to do,

The days are just too short, too few

For all the work we must get through.

 

The beams to wax, the painting to do,

Floors to tile, the grouting too,

So many tasks for just we two.

 

There are plums to pick, raspberries too,

Just one apricot, but the tree is new,

And loads of cherries, not just one or two.

 

We went away for a week or two,

Everything in the garden grew and grew,

Helped by sun and rain and morning dew.

 

We get big hailstorms this time of year,

Strip fruit from the trees, leave vineyards bare

Of grapes for the wine for the following year.

 

They forecast a thunderstorm or two,

Torrential rain, strong winds would blow,

But worse, there’d be damaging hailstones too.

 

Thought I’d better pick cherries from the tree,

Didn’t want them blitzed in a hailstone scree,

Took my ladders out, and a bucket or three.

 

The sky soon turned to grey from blue,

Thunder and lightning, humidity grew,

The rain came down, I was soon soaked through.

 

Most of the fruit was picked at last,

Up and down the ladders, working fast,

Twenty kilos, more than in years past.

 

That’s an awful lot of cherries to stone,

But I had some help, so mustn’t moan,

Made pies and jam; next – cherry scones?

 

Next week we will start anew,

Painting, tiling, gardening too,

Install the shower, fit the loo.

 

There are weeds to pull and seeds to sow,

Chillies to plant and grass to mow,

Make a waistcoat for the patchwork show.

 

A report to write for the club cyclo,

Songs to learn for a gig or two,

So much to do, so much to do.

 

Je ne peux pas traduire ce petit poeme en français, mais il s’agit de tout qu’il nous faut faire; du carrelage, de la peinture, du jardinage, etc., etc.

La prochaine fois, j’ecrirai en français aussi, comme d’habitude.