viernes, 5 de octubre de 2012


Once upon a time a female bee in the hive, working in nature, living their daily life like the rest of her companions, workers, and at the same time slaves, performing all sorts of tasks; already from an early age, which is to say from their first week of life, this apis, of himenoptera family, customs and genetic singular, it had habits that kept it the routine which showed the strict system of discipline. She didn't understand well why this delivery to which was considered the Queen; when cleaning the diaper box did not understand the rationale for not standing a little more playing in the early childhood, it felt like probably in other places would have a hope of a new day for her. It spent one week and our bee was a new producer of wax, that built and built the houses of bees, their diapers of hexagonal boxes. The truth is that there was no dialogue between them, the solidarity existed but only understood as helper in the strict and the proper functioning of the species. Everything had to be done around the owner; however, she had a friend who was a little older, with four or at least five weeks of life, came and went from the flowers to the hive. One afternoon was that our bee, protagonist and main, said to the libater: 

"now little is
so that I keep an eye on the  hive;
and will be in that moment
when vacate my grief,
that soon set aside
of the value that gives my conscience
to exit the oppression state
and fly out"
and her friend replied: 

- your think you can live away from your slave condition, more, what will you do?, are trapped, like all, there outside, us, only one; What can we do?, hear one thing,we must  accept as it is, have a little patience, and then, you could enjoy!,  like me, of libations, nobody is eternal!, my young friend!, accept your condition and will be more calm to yourself.

- And wait a lifetime for a pleasure that comes from a past slave?; and having to feed our enjoyment and sweat the abdomen of those useless drones, which have not  weapon with which to defend themselves, Ah, no, well... not!

These were the last words of the libertarian bee, or at least is known in the world of bees, because  spent about four or five days, was morning and she was at the entrance of the hive, he looked back at her sisters and flew up and did not know more of her.Today is said someone that she came to talk to the fairies, others that it was a simple story, some who wield reincarnations, whatever, she flew that day and never returned to see her 

_xurxo fernandez gonzalez