Silently standing watch over all the earth, an old yellowed
moon floats gently in the sky.
Peeking from behind palm trees, it's silhouettes checking
up on nature throughout the land.
This same moon in many different places is seen by many
faces watching it float higher in the sky.
Nowhere else can be seen the exact image, it's not like
being on a television screen.
Like a yellow balloon against a deep sea-darkened sky,
clouds creeping slowly up behind to shield it's eyes from
a polluted atmosphere.
Reaching gingerly upward, it remains out of reach as the
sky pulls it slowly higher teasing me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem