Looking for the sight of it.
Arising moon,
it hides between twin sheets.
The voices of the world,
today of you and I that said.
A special type of day before,
that is.
Each day we made I breach.
When soft of voice,
you did not cry I did outside.
Tell me why the moon is round.
I have heard you think of day.
Instead of night,
love fights.
The grass is green and blue.
When they have to have,
the world they blindly sought
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem