Stealing the moon, I shall go sitting behind the church
Which but know you, which but know I,
Which but I cannot,
As it happens, happens in love,
Stealing the moon, I shall go sitting behind the church.
The moon shining above and we behind the church
Talking, lost in the thoughts of ours,
The fair, fine and silvery fresh moon shining up above,
The moonshine-bathed the world,
The moonlit ways and the orbs glistening
And we behind the church,
In the garden of flowers, sitting in the backyard,
Sharing a talk.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.