The speaker keeps asking a butterfly for two things: to lie down with them and to fly with them. The title, "Butterlie," blends "butterfly" and "lie," so the plea carries a hint of deceit. Is this an invitation to rest, or to be fooled?
The refrain repeats like a chant, and the middle lines shift the poem's direction. Three short replies, "he lies," "she flies," "they cry," each end in a similar "-ly" sound. The rhymes click together neatly, but the actions they describe are a mix of danger, courage and sadness. "Contagiously" suggests that grief or tears spread from person to person.
Then the speaker breaks off with a stranger, more honest question: "Why do I scream outrageous things." It reads like a moment of self-doubt, as if the begging has gotten out of hand. The poem then returns to the refrain unchanged. The mood is anxious and hypnotic, a longing that can't stop circling and never gets an answer.