I awake before dawn and call out to the Moon,
But the Moon is missing, she has other duties to attend to.
I sleep fitfully, aware that something is missing.
I awaken at dusk and call to the Sun,
But the Sun is missing, he has other lands to shine upon.
I wake with uncertainty, aware that something is missing.
I wake up in the midlands of night, in the close darkness
And I realize then that there is no longer anybody to call out to;
Whether I sleep or wake again is no longer important.
I send word to the Sun not to awaken me.
I send word to the Moon not to expect me-
I must go where light and darkness can freely mix,
And where things grow, touchless beneath a hidden sky;
Nothing is not there that should be,
Nothing is there that should not be:
And I am my own Moon, mirrored Suns shining from every secret eye.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem