I wait under tonight's full moon.
There is another place that I like,
and the sky above which I with you slept.
Come, don't go to far around, up the hill.
The highway is quite the rest areas are busy, asleep.
The moon behind the clouds keeps on rising and setting.
I can not speak without my tongue,
and can not you tell me why it is that you have two.
The crescent moon is as narrow as I am wide.
How ever I long and how ever short is my sleep.
You will leave me here face down in rose petals.
How shallow my breath grows and dying.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem