Standing on the diving board
I received the electric knowledge
of how a bee sting feels.
Seeing me sob,
my swim instructor pretended to hunt for the culprit,
looking upwards all over as if there was a chance,
assuring me the bee was somewhere dead,
having lost its stinger.
The logic of Use-Stinger-Lose-Life felt like justice.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem