the song of the cuckoo is a welcome sign that the summer is on its' way but this book of birds describes him as a parasite |
the cuckoo can still be heard in the valleys of the Northern Italian hills, but it is fainter now as the birds are busy bringing up their young and planning their next move. This little rhyme tells us about his plans.
In April the cuckoo sings his lay
In May I sing all day
In June I change my tune
In July away I fly
In August go I must.
The cuckoo is a pretty bird
She singeth as she flies
She bringeth us good tidings
she telleth us no lies
And all the time she singeth
Cuckoo, Cuckoo,
The summer draweth nigh.
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