Was walking in my garden this morning, saw a little bee on one of the zinnias, obviously on her last legs. It is fall, and many of them are dying- but I rarely see them in the process, and this touched me, so I wrote something about it.
This is originally in Sandic, so only two versions below.
You can listen here: http://vocaroo.com/i/s0DJ0zdrgiek
Order of texts: original sandic -- smooth english of Sandic
Zum atemalëlnia
O ba zaoa purpuri
Atiab nualë azeb
Bian axféd ân ade
Sagabnia ba, a
Jjiave ba jjelura ba lëyuc
Wî ân ba zaoanian ae
Oféd ta jutin érain
Bian, fovian
Wwak iat akep
O ba zaoa purpuri
Pa ba zaoan
Hanako axjjew gamia
Katadei, kakrei, kamai,
Kalëanéi
Pal ta kolún ae ivin
A mér ba fél kaxfédi
Ledi aahl
Katéwîcinia
Pa ba zaoan.
--
She may die here
On the purple flower
She hardly moves
To this one she'd come,
To take a bit of the nectar, perhaps, but
Despite the strong wind
And that so many others
Come to her little gathering of flowers
To, fro
She still sits there, supporting herself
On the purple flower
In the gathering of flowers,
She has lived the fullness of being a bee
Gathering, Carrying, making,
Flying
With all of her sisters
But in this cold which has come,
She is heavy,
Tired,
In the gathering of flowers.
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