The moon is a spy
With a silver eye,
Who looks down to spy
On the lovers.
From high in the sky
He can spot any lie;
And he waits on the sly,
As he hovers.
The clouds amble by,
Now the moon wears a smile-
He can tell that the sigh's
For another.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem