From You To The Sky Poem by Mikho Mosulishvili

The yellow moon will dance in oleanders
At the end of November,
At the beginning of Sagittarius.
And I can no longer count ghosts,
Who came to me with a smile,
Whom I then escorted with pain.

I'll be a ghost soon too,
The ghost of the ghosts,
And I'll lose dreams
From you to the sky.
Only I don't think,
that this shadow will be lost:
When the sun passes of Scorpion,
I'll be followed by your gentle voice.

The old moon will begin to cry in oleanders,
At the end of November,
At the beginning of Sagittarius...