It bumbled past her with a buzz -
cherubic little ball of fuzz.
She grabbed a slipper, aimed it - whack!
Poor bee! You came with no attack.
And if she slew you, hallowed bee
what would she fear to lay on me
who, even quicker than this telling,
could vex her with a mortal swelling?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Well conceived and nicely embellished with poetic rhyme and rhythm. A beautiful work of art. Thanks for sharing.