The Butterfly
The butterfly did flee,
it seems he was afraid of me
he flew so fast, I barely saw him go
and where he goes I do not know.
An admiral from the Russian Navy
once stopped a while and spoke with me,
“Do you prefer the butterfly, or the flea?”
I told him it was all the same to me,
whether it be,
the flutter of a butterfly
the braying of a flea,
or the saying that,
‘whatever a bee will be… will be.’
The admiral smiled,
and looked at me,
handed me his cap
in humility,
and now, I am the ruler of the Tsar’s navy!
