The Busy Bees

Sitting for hours idle in the shade of an apple tree, near the garden-hives, and under the aerial thoroughfares of those honey merchants, —sometimes when the noonday heat is loud with their minute industry, or when they fall in crowds out of the late sun to their night-long labours, —I have sought instruction from the Bees, and tried to appropriate to myself the old industrious lesson.

And yet, hang it all, who by rights should be the teacher and who the learners? For those peevish, over-toiled, utilitarian insects, was there no lesson to be derived from the spectacle of Me? Gazing out at me with myriad eyes, from their joyless factories, might they not learn at last—could I not finally teach them—a wiser and more generous-hearted way to improve the shining hours?

蜜蜂营营

几个小时地闲坐在一棵苹果树的绿荫下，不远处是园里的蜂房，头顶上是那些贩蜜者来回的空中大道——有时，当正午的热气里营营响着它们那纤毫不漏的勤勉，或者当它们成群从暮色中降落开始彻夜的劳作——我便向蜜蜂们讨教，努力要把那古老的勤奋功课学过来。

且慢，谁天生就该当老师，谁天生又该当学生？那些个脾气乖张、操劳过度、营营役役的昆虫，难道我的做派就没有它们可学之处？从它们那没有欢乐的工厂里，拿无数的复眼瞪着我，难道它们不可能最终学会——难道我不能最终教给它们——一种更具智慧、更见豪爽的处世之道，让阳光灿烂的时辰更加美好？