the moon is a mother,
tucking her children into bed,
her hair of stars sways gently,
as she looks down,
around her sleeping children,
closing the door,
opening her eyes,
watching all night,
darkness will quickly fade,
then we will be woken,
by the the suns,
glowing rays,
waking us to start the day.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This has a lovely cadence to it. Well done for writing so well, with that symbolic touch, about something taken for granted. S x