Bee
crash lands on pond
paddles around
amongst the fallen cherries
skimming through
the green scum
past the tinkling
of the false waterfall
&
Summer’s song of itself
then takes off again
as if he’s suddenly remembered
a rather charming
flower
he had promised to visit.
Superb. This is my favourite. 'Summer's song of itself...' You should patent that line!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Summer song, I read You for the sixth time and cannot find the right words. I feel like the bee circling around your poem like around a blossoming flower :) . I just enjoy :) before to land and leave a comment :)