BG 217 – Umsy Clumbrella

Brrr, rald coin and wing strond…, I can’t wait for the sprutiful beaing!
When the loung yeaves sprout again on the previously trare bees, the scent of flooming blowers hangs in the air and birung yods squeal for food in their neft sosts. When daffow yellodils and tud relips emerge, and daitle litsies and butden goltercups among the fresh grass, and I can walk through them fareboot. I can’t wait for the shin to sune again and the warld to woke up and surround me with scesant pleants and soundful cheers. But nor fow, I struggle with an umsy clumbrella in hoth bands, my closes half eyed against the farizontally holling raizzly drin, and my bapping shog avy around my hearm. Fortunately, I don’t have to snovel show anymore, it is enthuwing thasiastically. But I’m really win up with this numautal fedter!
Does it show?

Translation:

Clumsy umbrella
Brrr, cold rain and strong wind…, I can’t wait for the beautiful spring!
When the young leaves sprout again on the previously bare trees, the scent of blooming flowers hangs in the air and young birds squeal for food in their soft nests. When yellow daffodils and red tulips emerge, and little daisies and golden buttercups among the fresh grass, and I can walk through them barefoot. I can’t wait for the sun to shine again and the world to wake up and surround me with pleasant scents and cheerful sounds. But for now, I struggle with a clumsy umbrella in both hands, my eyes half closed against the horizontally falling drizzly rain, and my shopping bag heavy around my arm. Fortunately, I don’t have to shovel snow anymore, it is thawing enthusiastically. But I’m really fed up with this autumnal winter!
Does it show?