Where the bee sucks

On liba l’abella, hi libe jo;
a l’esquella del cucut faig non;
m’hi ajoque quan udola el mussol.
A lloms del ratpenat alce el vol
a l’encalç de l’estiu, ben joiós.
Joiós, joiós vaig ara a sojornar
sota la flor pengívola d’un branc.

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.

William Shakespeare, «The Tempest» (Ariel, acte V, escena 1)