The rooks are building on the trees
They build there every spring Cave care, is all they say, For none of them can sing
They're up before the break of day. And up till late at night: For they must labour busily As long as it is light.
And many a crooked stick they bring, And many a slender twig. And many a tuft of moss, until Their nests are round and big.
Caw, caw. Oh, what a noise They make in rainy weather! Good children always speak by turns. But rooks all talk together.