Within the sparkle of a star
a candle's lit away off far,
The moonlight flutters all around
in pools of tears on flowing ground.
And to the flame a moth is lured...
It whisps in circles so selfassured
Each pass around a flash of red,
unto the flame the moth now dead.
What can we learn from what we see
as we go in circles endlessly,
Just like the moth we are draw in
Lured to the flame of timeless sin.
2005
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem