Large bees hovering,
Suspended like ornaments,
Below the weathered grey trellised wooden beams.
Below the solid sunlit blue sky.
They strike and chase,
Ducking and vying for their self designated space.
Again, hold and hover,
Before another dance.
A subtle buzz in the air.
A subtle unseen courtship of Nature
On this perfect Spring morning.
(4.24.9 Waterfall)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem