Meadows bloom in summer hues,
Flowers ripened with pollen ooze,
Busy bees buzz to-and-fro,
Sipping sweet nectar as they go,
Just beyond the stream that bends,
Above where swaying ferns ascend,
With swollen bellies they cross the fields,
Heavy with their treasured yields,
Back at the hive they do convene,
Guided by their reigning queen,
Surrender now their precious hold,
To be transformed into liquid gold.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
So accurately described and in rhythm and rhyme! , Thanks for sharing.-10