.  LULLABY OF THE BEEKEEPER OF CHILLAN  Even God sleeps now, my loves,  even failures and sin  snore alongside speech and truth,  but the bees do not sleep.  The grapes in the arbor sleep,  the old car in the back.  The lock in the gate sleeps,  the plum and cherry trees,  but the bees do not sleep.  The broom and the toilet sleep  and the old cobbles in the road.  The wife and the small grey birds sleep  and the bitter insect infesting the hive.  The door in its varnish sleeps,  but my bees do not sleep.  The stray dogs in the trash,  the wax sealed larvae sleep,  even the washing, the angels, the stars.  Things come and go,  but the bees do not sleep.  