Wandering in a moonlight made of many Springs and white bees carrying nectar from lost memories, I came across this poem by Antonio Machado..
Songs
I
Against the flowering mountain
The full seas dash.
The wax of my bees
Holds little grains of salt.
II
Spring has come.
Nobody knows how it did it.
III
Full moon, full moon,
So full, so round,
On this serene night
Of March; wax of light
Made by white bees.
Antonio Machado
photo
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