Beginning of autumn. Full moon. Distant hills. All the stars are bigger. An orchestra of mosquitoes in the background. A mosquito: - I can't take it anymore! My proboscis is freezing! A spider: (Huddled in the dew, Shivering and bearing his cross): - Not even a fly in view... A cockchafer: - Can you take me to your web? My antennae are quite frozen. The spider: - Only too glad, But I'm not in my web. A bee: - Stupid! A cricket: - What more can you expect from a spider? Old castle abider! Eyes like Cyclops', Hairy as a caterpillar, And dumb as a dummy! The bee: (Covering her ear): - This gets to my brain! Silly and gramophone-ous Loud and monotonous Cricket insane! The cricket: - Excuse me! Do you mind? Why did you ever leave the beehive behind? Alone, at night, on the street, no friend With just a needle stuck in your rear end? A gossamer spider web: - The wind's carrying me so lightly... Two dead leaves: - The earth's calling us again, almighty... The spider: - Shut up, I want to snore and sleep! The cricket: - But where's the cockchafer, I wonder... Not a peep! We could strike up a tune… But then my bow-arm's getting number! The bee: - Would you like a bit of resin? The mosquitoes: (buzzzzzzin'...) The cockchafer: (somewhere in the coniferous thicket) - My feet are in a wobble weeble! Help, my friends! You! Cricket! The sun is getting feeble! from Poems, Tineretului, 1964
by Otilia Cazimir (1894-1967)
