The moon thinks we are young
runaways, we are eloping
to get married without
the blessings of our families.
Well, it is mistaken.
Let it throw her full
moon beams on us tonight.
Let it record our kisses and delights.
Let her efforts be proven futile
when the whole world wishes
us best for our married life.
The moon, I think,
is a little looney tonight.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Interesting poem. I should read Robert’s poem too.