Beneath the shining stars,
beneath the gleaming moon,
when night has healed the scars
of the burning noon
and so, to you,
if hate possess your heart,
when the day's hot strife is through
bid hate to depart
the disappointing day,
whenever wrong, or how,
is something that has passed away,
it is ended now.
Forget, forgive, the stars, and
sleep will find you soon
Beneath the shining stars,
the gleaming of the moon
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem