Narcissus And Iphigenia Poem by Sairindhree Sen

Once there was a honey-bee,
Her name was Iphigenia.
One fateful summer day,
She lost her way.
She buzzed about from dawn to dusk,
Desperately seeking a shelter.
At last, fatigued and disappointed,
She sat upon a chrysanthemum,
Sobbing all alone.
The petals wiped her tears,
The leaves consoled her,
Yet the deluge from her eyes,
Poured and poured -
Like endless monsoon showers.

A wasp was flying by,
Seeing the little bee in distress,
He said: “I am Narcissus.
Would you come to my niche? ”
And the two flew away,
Bidding farewell to the chrysanthemums.

They flew across brooks and meadows,
And reached a magnificent hive.
Narcissus cried: “Look!
This is my castle of love!
And I am its sole Emperor.”

The little bee watched enthralled-
The enchanting house of wax,
With pores here and cells there,
Shining in the silver moonlight.
Each cell housed a wasp in it-
Devoted and contented.

Narcissus invited Iphigenia
To reside in his abode:
“Stay with me, little one,
You shall have a cell of your own,
A compartment exclusively yours,
Both in my hive and in my heart.
And I shall come from time to time,
And pour my love upon you.”

The little bee thought for a while,
And then replied:
“Thank you for your hospitality, sir,
But please pardon me.
I prefer the blossoms instead.
Your compartment would stifle me.”

Narcissus asked astonished:
“Why? What’s wrong with it?
Look! I can keep so many contented,
They have never complained.”

The little bee replied: “ My lord,
You have a magnanimous heart -
Just like your fascinating hive,
Which has multiple perforations,
But is devoid of honey -
My prime source of sustenance.
You can give me a house,
But not a home.
You can give me shelter,
But not the love I desire.”

So,
Flying back to the blossoms,
She lay on the soft petals,
And fell asleep.
Only the chrysanthemum,
Swaying in the gentle breeze,
Heard her, as she heaved a sigh,
And said to herself:
“This is far better.”