Tonight the moon
hangs in the weeping willow,
a silver ornament,
in golden branches.
The bitter wind
blows the bracken ferns
toward the creek,
bending, they bow
before the moon.
I discovered a patch
of Love in a Mist,
their pods hidden in
their green, ferny leaves,
winking blue eyes of petals,
linked around open hearts,
they stood shyly
in the long grass.
The Periwinkle creeps
along the ground
and climbs into the willow,
reaching, reaching,
out of the darkness
into the new moon's light,
white and purple
periwinkle flowers
reflecting silver shine
against dark leaves,
entwining the moon.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
In the second stanza I would replace 'moon' with 'light'. Good poem. H