Monday, August 13, 2012

Song of the Bees by Théodore Botrel

I said one day to the bee
Rest a little now,
Your striving to be like
This pretty blue butterfly
On the rose or the pansy,
See, it swoons in day-dreaming
Yes... but, me, I'm in a hurry,
Said the bee to me, in passing.

Showing her the dragonfly,
I said to her, another day
Come, from dawn to dusk,
Dance like her, when it's your turn
Don't you admire it, subtle,
Waltzing over there on the lake?
Yes... but me, I am useful
Said the bee to me, leaving.

Yesterday, before the door
Of its little temple of gold
I caught sight of it, half dead,
Heavy with its pollen again
Rest yourself, poor creature
I said to her while helping her
Yes... when my task is done,
The bee said to me as she died.

No comments:

Post a Comment