A little sun and a little honey,
As we were ordered by the bees of Proserpine.
No one can free an unmoored boat,
Nor hear the shadow shod in fur,
Nor conquest fear in the dense forest of life.
We are left only with kisses
Prickling like tiny bees,
Which die when they leave the hive....
Take for joy my wild present,
This plain, dry necklace
Of bees, which died turning honey to sun.
~ Nadezhda Mandelstam
8 comments:
Beautiful picture and poem
What a beautiful poem! I like the part about not being able to free an unmoored boat! Awesome.
Hi Aiyana,
I've got the opportunity to visit a bee keeper soon, would love to get a shot like this one.
The bee population seems be be suffering at the moment with a mite that is wiping out colonies, hopefully they can find a cure as we would be totaly lost without the bees.
Cheers Mark
How moving was that post. Tku for sharing the beautiful photography and poetry.
The opening line is so beautiful. I enjoyed reading this poem.
A glowing photo; very lovely. Are you a bee keeper too?
What a beautiful picture and poem!
I have a book I made years ago with favorite poems and sayings. This is a recent addition to my book. I loved it from the first time I heard it. Thanks to Chris in Virginia for introducing this poem to me. The photo was just perfect for this poem.
I don't keep bees, but members of my family did for years. Right now, thousands of bees are buzzing around my flowering Palo Verde trees and Creosote bushes. Bees have never bothered me at all. I can work around the trees, and even trim the bushes and never get stung. Knock on wood!
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