Last night Lord, I dreamt I had a beehive for a heart
and in the morning, every bee went flower roving
there I lay wondering, should this queen my soul depart
what might they bring her back as her last Royal Jelly?
Ah, curtains half ajar like a honeycomb, dozing-
there I lay pondering what if my own antennae
sensed the nectar of every flower; would I choose one
and only one, and would my heart; like all of theirs, thrum.
Last night Lord, I dreamt I had a beehive for a heart
now they've all returned, I knew there's no counterpart
for instinct: So I guess for you alone I'll succumb
forget the colony and-just return to the one.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem