Honey sticks, it begs to be licked,
July carries pollen in the air,

Resin sticks — water will not seep through,
Dough sticks — a tasty pie.

An unwashed body sticks to the sheet,
Fingers stick to large bills,
Eyes stick to a Carpathian autumn,
Ears stick to the playing of overtures.

The tongue sticks to the throat from thirst,
Mud sticks to pants and shoes,
Insult sticks from curses and contempt,
What is born sticks to the mystery of life.