Acquiesce to my insect,
Spread your petals wide,
But beware the stinging object,
At the end of my spine
Emasculate my hairy knees,
In your pollen guise,
And ride my translucent wings,
Beneath the summer skies
Fervid for my honey,
The gold you will provide,
The altruistic sweetness,
Created in my hive.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I was going to give this an 8 but I gave it a 9. I did this because the rhythm created a music that was favorable to the ear. The rhymes were not near perfect, but I didn't feel the reader would notice that because of the sound. This is really a rare poem that does this. In a sense, there is a kind of magic that had to be rewarded. GW62