Where the bee sucks, there suck I:
In a cowslip's bell I lie;
There I couch when owls do cry.
On the bat's back I do fly
After summer merrily.
Merrily, merrily shall I live now
Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.
(By William Shakespeare).
Author's Notes/Comments:
This song holds a special fascination with me ever since I was nine years old. I can still recall my cousin sister Zeenat, who was older than me and respectfully addressed as "Zeenat Apa" (Apa is a term of respect used for sisters and cousin sisters older than us) in Pakistan and India as well as in all those places worldwide wherever Urdu is spoken and understood -- "Apa" is an Urdu term. Zeenat Apa had a beautiful voice and used to sing this every afternoon just before siesta time. Unforgettable!
