Each farmer on the island conceals
his hive far up on the
mountain,
knowing it will otherwise be plundered.
When they die, or can no
longer make
the hard climb, the lost
combs year
after year grow heavier
with honey.
And the sweetness has more
and more
acutely the taste of that
wilderness.
Nincsenek megjegyzések:
Megjegyzés küldése