Oh, how I love the fickle moon!
She is ever constant in her changing.
She is beautiful in her symmetry.
Ever present yet sometimes disappearing.
She has none of her own light but shines incredibly bright.
When at her brightest she makes humankind crazy while tugging at the ocean tides.
I miss her soft glow when she hides.
I love the constant, fickle moon.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem