The young moon comes early
And slips away soon.
Like a white dairy-maid
Runs the young moon.
The full moon rides slowly
From night until morn,
Like a proud mother
With her child unborn.
The old moon walks idly,
Lingering, wan-
As a lone woman
Whose lover is gone,
Unseeing, uncaring,
Lives on, lives on.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem