This is Apollinaire’s first published poem and reads:
Moon dribbling honey upon lips of lunatics
Orchards and country towns tonight grow greedy
Stars resemble bees
Of a luminous liquid that drips from trellises
Each honey beam oozes from heaven
Taking its own sweet time
Hidden I glimpse the sweet adventure
But I fear the fiery sting of that bee Arcturus
He has flung me deceiving beams
And culled his moon honey from the compass rose of the winds