And so I do wonder about the orbiting moon
Being so pale from solitary weariness as it sails and looms
As it climbs the stairs of heaven and gazes on mother earth
Wandering far, calm and companionless, before the day returns too soon
Wandering among the stars that have a different orbits birth
And ever changing, like a joyless morbid eye
That finds no object worth its divine eternal constancy
Yet I wonder is the moon tired? it looks so fatigue and pale
Within its misty far veil
It scales the sky from east to west,
And stays mysterious, unrevealing that takes no rest.
Before the coming of the night
The moon shows its papery white;
And before the dawning of the day, It abruptly fades away.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem