Precious moon that hangs over me,
still wind only wafts, beside me,
angles eyes, devils hearts,
do not scare me, or there darts,
take away the lies that they form,
curves of mystery,
sweet laughter,
drunkards speak,
sprits to wise I think,
for another drink,
sweep me away,
to that moon,
that gave me,
this hang over,
way to soon.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem