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When Cupid in the golden times In love with sleeper pleasures
On colorful flower fields ran, There stung the smallest of the gods
A little bee that slept in rose petals, where it usually fetched honey.
By this sting Armor became wiser, the inexhaustible deceiver
He thought of a new stratagem, He listens in roses and violas;
And when a girl came to fetch them, He flew out as a bee and stung.
Gotthold Ephraim Lessing (1729 - 1781)