Moonlight, you spread your silvers onto us
And lead us to dreams by your soft whispers--
Unspoken whispers--that's heard by the hearts--
Poetic hearts--love-searching and tender.
And this park--now is empty and dreamy--
Even the night-roaming lovers have gone--
Only the late cold air left lulling me--
Was once filled with some sweetly chanted songs,
Sung into the heart of a sweet lover,
Whose skin pale as the silver light of Moon
And cold as the evening breeze of Winter,
Yet her heart warm and temper mild as June.
And now she is smiling down from Heaven
As I sing to her from our love's garden.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.