</>While she cut the moon into pieces,
she 's learnt how to share peace
The odourless is smelling better than any ladies' fragrance;
The incompleteness calls for literary climax
Words should not be spoken out
Subtext should never be objective
While I am slipping from the moon onto my bed
I do not sleep for bedtime
but for more Celtic atmosphere...
How beauteous to pass away inside the warmth of the moon
But my slipping onto the floor during a short doze
is rather embarrassing.
Hey, my romance slipped away.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem