Moon rose, stars shine
with all that I played
every right I heard
I instantly obeyed
they sleep, they enjoy
I woke and I stayed
that grips and that whips
the picture that swayed
did not enjoy a song
or chirped, cried or brayed
He, who made thy face
is worthy to be prayed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
a beauty of kinds very nice