If a bee flies into your mouth you die. It stings your gums. The gums swell up so big that you suffocate on your own gums, Grandfather said. While I picked flowers I constantly thought of not opening my mouth. But sometimes I felt like singing. I clenched my teeth and squashed a song. My lips would hum and I looked around me to see if it wasn’t precisely my humming what would bring a bee to me. There wasn’t a bee to be seen far and wide.
But I wanted one to come. And I will keep humming and show it that it can´t fly into my mouth.
Nadirs, Herta Müller. Translated by Sieglinde Lug