Once, upon a high and windy place,
Above a sweet, secluded rocky cove
I waited, looking out across the sea
While day gave way to summer’s evening glow.
And as I watched, the sun set to my right.
Soon, low enough to look, I saw his sphere,
And when I turned and gazed across the trees
Upon my left, the moon was rising clear.
The moon was perfect - white and round
In size and splendor matched the setting sun;
They faced each other, even in their strength
There will never be a moment like this one.
Although the red and violent king
With all his powers did the best he could,
The rising moon serenely took the night
As any wise and holy female should.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem