I saw a moon so bright
One night
Was sure to blind my eyes,
And so I bowed my head
Instead
And looked not to the skies.
But in the lake
It’s own remake
Lay there for me to try,
And so I glanced
At it in chance
That it would satisfy.
But imitation
Though re-creation
Is not original,
And cannot hope
To therefore rope
The mind’s attention full.
And so I raised
My downward gaze,
And wished my eyes goodbye,
And would again
If were given
That moon once more to spy.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A bright moon casts a shadow of such delicate introspection.