A full moon looks like a tiny glowing ball, bouncing
up and down in the reflection of a fish pond's water.
So playful, yet delicate, it sets the mood of night-
time prayer.
So fragile, like whispers on an evening breeze.
Reaching out to touch it's beauty, ripples float
across it's image, distorting and rearranging it's
nighttime image.
Slowly fading back into it's rightful reflection, it
once again shows off it's beauty.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem