Where did thou sting go little bee,
Under my toes or by my knee,
The pain thou hast left me…
Is unnecessary.
If thy hast to leave a sting,
Let the pain NOT be endlessly.
One has to get some sleep,
It is unfair the pain, when it
Dusts make one weep.
Oh Summer end, so come so quick,
These flies so vast we have to whip,
The wasps around do make us worry,
GO AWAY you bees and make your honey.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem