Light Of The Moon

light of the moon
moves west - flowers' shadows
creep eastward

by Yosa Buson.

brilliant moon
is it true that you too
must pass in a hurry?

by Kobayashi Issa.

The Moon Tonight

The moon tonight--
I even miss
her grumbling.


Translated by Robert Hass

by Kobayashi Issa.

The Silver Moon

The silver moon is set;
The Pleiades are gone;
Half the long night is spent, and yet
I lie alone.

by Sappho.

Harvest moon--
called at his house,
he was digging potatoes.


Translated by Robert Hass

by Yosa Buson.

Autumn Moonlight

Autumn moonlight--
a worm digs silently
into the chestnut.


Translated by Robert Hass

by Matsuo Basho.

Moonlight Slanting

Moonlight slanting
through the bamboo grove;
a cuckoo crying.


Translated by Robert Hass

by Matsuo Basho.

Face Of The Spring Moon

Face of the spring moon--
about twelve years old,
I'd say.


Translated by Robert Hass

by Kobayashi Issa.

Listening To The Moon

Listening to the moon,
gazing at the croaking of frogs
in a field of ripe rice.


Translated by Robert Hass

by Yosa Buson.

The stars around the fair moon fade
Against the night,
When gazing full she fills the glade
And spreads the seas with silvery light.

by Sappho.

O Lady Moon, your horns point toward the east:
Shine, be increased;
O Lady Moon, your horns point toward the west:
Wane, be at rest.

by Christina Georgina Rossetti.

Is It The Child Of Moon

Is it the child of moon
Is it a beautiful lot of flower
Is it the honey filled in the flower
Or is it the moon-light of a full-moon-night

by Irayimman Thampi.

THE stars about the lovely moon
Fade back and vanish very soon,
When, round and full, her silver face
Swims into sight, and lights all space

by Sappho.

Quiet Night Thoughts

Before my bed
there is bright moonlight
So that it seems
Like frost on the ground:

Lifting my head
I watch the bright moon,
Lowering my head
I dream that I'm home.

by Li Po.

Maidens Dancing In Moonlight

Then, as the broad moon rose on high,
The maidens stood the altar nigh;
And some in graceful measure
The well-loved spot danced round,
With lightsome footsteps treading
The soft and grassy ground.

by Sappho.

Under the crescent moon's faint glow
The washerman's bat resounds afar,
And the autumn breeze sighs tenderly.
But my heart has gone to the Tartar war,
To bleak Kansuh and the steppes of snow,
Calling my husband back to me.

by Li Po.

Art thou pale for weariness
Of climbing heaven and gazing on the earth,
Wandering companionless
Among the stars that have a different birth, -
And ever changing, like a joyless eye
That finds no object worth its constancy?

by Percy Bysshe Shelley.

Fragment: "To The Moon"

Art thou pale for weariness
Of climbing Heaven, and gazing on the earth,
Wandering companionless
Among the stars that have a different birth,--
And ever changing, like a joyless eye
That finds no object worth its constancy?

by Percy Bysshe Shelley.

The Waning Moon

And like a dying lady, lean and pale,
Who totters forth, wrapped in a gauzy veil,
Out of her chamber, led by the insane
And feeble wanderings of her fading brain,
The moon arose up in the murky east,
A white and shapeless mass.

by Percy Bysshe Shelley.

Is The Moon Tired? She Looks So Pale

Is the moon tired? she looks so pale
Within her misty veil:
She scales the sky from east to west,
And takes no rest.
Before the coming of the night
The moon shows papery white;
Before the dawning of the day
She fades away.

by Christina Georgina Rossetti.

If The Moon Came From Heaven

If the moon came from heaven,
Talking all the way,
What could she have to tell us,
And what could she say?
‘I've seen a hundred pretty things,
And seen a hundred gay;
But only think: I peep by night
And do not peep by day!’

by Christina Georgina Rossetti.

Autumn River Song

The moon shimmers in green water.
White herons fly through the moonlight.

The young man hears a girl gathering water-chestnuts:
into the night, singing, they paddle home together.

Li T'ai-po
tr. Hamil

by Li Po.

Look Down, Fair Moon


LOOK down, fair moon, and bathe this scene;
Pour softly down night's nimbus floods, on faces ghastly, swollen,
purple;
On the dead, on their backs, with their arms toss'd wide,
Pour down your unstinted nimbus, sacred moon.

by Walt Whitman.

The Road Was Lit With Moon And Star

The Road was lit with Moon and star -
The Trees were bright and still -
Descried I - by the distant Light
A Traveller on a Hill -
To magic Perpendiculars
Ascending, though Terrene -
Unknown his shimmering ultimate -
But he indorsed the sheen -

by Emily Dickinson.

Xxvi: The Half-Moon Westers Low My Love

The half-moon westers low, my love,
And the wind brings up the rain;
And wide apart lie we, my love,
And seas between the twain.

I know not if it rains, my love,
In the land where you do lie;
And oh, so sound you sleep, my love,
You know no more than I.

by Alfred Edward Housman.

Under The April Moon

OH, well the world is dreaming
Under the April moon,
Her soul in love with beauty,
Her senses all a-swoon!
Pure hangs the silver crescent
Above the twilight wood,
And pure the silver music
Wakes from the marshy flood.
O Earth, with all thy transport,
How comes it life should seem
A shadow in the moonlight,
A murmur in a dream?

by Bliss William Carman.

Above the tower -- a lone, twice-sized moon.
On the cold river passing night-filled homes,
It scatters restless gold across the waves.
On mats, it shines richer than silken gauze.

Empty peaks, silence: among sparse stars,
Not yet flawed, it drifts. Pine and cinnamon
Spreading in my old garden . . . All light,
All ten thousand miles at once in its light!

by Du Fu.

You are the moon, dear love, and I the sea:
The tide of hope swells high within my breast,
And hides the rough dark rocks of life’s unrest
When your fond eyes smile near in perigee.
But when that loving face is turned from me,
Low falls the tide, and the grim rocks appear,
And earth’s dim coast-line seems a thing to fear.
You are the moon, dear one, and I the sea.

by Ella Wheeler Wilcox.

It will not hurt me when I am old,
A running tide where moonlight burned
Will not sting me like silver snakes;
The years will make me sad and cold,
It is the happy heart that breaks.

The heart asks more than life can give,
When that is learned, then all is learned;
The waves break fold on jewelled fold,
But beauty itself is fugitive,
It will not hurt me when I am old.

by Sara Teasdale.

I think the moon is very kind
To take such trouble just for me.
He came along with me from home
To keep me company.

He went as fast as I could run;
I wonder how he crossed the sky?
I'm sure he hasn't legs and feet
Or any wings to fly.

Yet here he is above their roof;
Perhaps he thinks it isn't right
For me to go so far alone,
Tho' mother said I might.

by Sara Teasdale.

Moonlight, Summer Moonlight

'Tis moonlight, summer moonlight,
All soft and still and fair;
The solemn hour of midnight
Breathes sweet thoughts everywhere,

But most where trees are sending
Their breezy boughs on high,
Or stooping low are lending
A shelter from the sky.

And there in those wild bowers
A lovely form is laid;
Green grass and dew-steeped flowers
Wave gently round her head.

by Emily Jane Brontë.

'Tis Moonlight, Summer Moonlight

'Tis moonlight, summer moonlight,
All soft and still and fair;
The solemn hour of midnight
Breathes sweet thoughts everywhere,

But most where trees are sending
Their breezy boughs on high,
Or stooping low are lending
A shelter from the sky.

And there in those wild bowers
A lovely form is laid;
Green grass and dew-steeped flowers
Wave gently round her head.

by Emily Jane Brontë.

The Moon Looks In

I

I have risen again,
And awhile survey
By my chilly ray
Through your window-pane
Your upturned face,
As you think, 'Ah - she
Now dreams of me
In her distant place!'

II

I pierce her blind
In her far-off home:
She fixes a comb,
And says in her mind,
'I start in an hour;
Whom shall I meet?
Won't the men be sweet,
And the women sour!'

by Thomas Hardy.

From these bare trees
The sticks of last year's nests
Print sad characters against the moon;
While wind-blown moonlight,
Stripping fields to silver,
Scrawls December on each frozen pool.

Light washed on each tree
Roots it in black shadow,
As last year's love now roots me in black night;
And where love danced
Footprints of fiery moments
Flash out memorials in silent ice.

by Frederick Robert Higgins.

What Counsel Has The Hooded Moon

What counsel has the hooded moon
Put in thy heart, my shyly sweet,
Of Love in ancient plenilune,
Glory and stars beneath his feet -- -
A sage that is but kith and kin
With the comedian Capuchin?

Believe me rather that am wise
In disregard of the divine,
A glory kindles in those eyes
Trembles to starlight. Mine, O Mine!
No more be tears in moon or mist
For thee, sweet sentimentalist.

by James Joyce.

DAY, you have bruised and beaten me,
As rain beats down the bright, proud sea,
Beaten my body, bruised my soul,
Left me nothing lovely or whole—
Yet I have wrested a gift from you,
Day that dies in dusky blue:
For suddenly over the factories
I saw a moon in the cloudy seas—
A wisp of beauty all alone
In a world as hard and gray as stone—
Oh who could be bitter and want to die
When a maiden moon wakes up in the sky?

by Sara Teasdale.

The Sun And Moon Must Make Their Haste

871

The Sun and Moon must make their haste—
The Stars express around
For in the Zones of Paradise
The Lord alone is burned—

His Eye, it is the East and West—
The North and South when He
Do concentrate His Countenance
Like Glow Worms, flee away—

Oh Poor and Far—
Oh Hindred Eye
That hunted for the Day—
The Lord a Candle entertains
Entirely for Thee—

by Emily Dickinson.

Mellifluent moon on the lips of the maddened
The orchards and towns are greedy tonight
The stars appear like the image of bees
Of this luminous honey that offends the vines
For now all sweet in their fall from the sky
Each ray of moonlight’s a ray of honey
Now hid I conceive the sweetest adventure
I fear stings of fire from this Polar bee
that sets these deceptive rays in my hands
And takes its moon-honey to the rose of the winds

by Guillaume Apollinaire.

Ah, Moon—and Star!

240

Ah, Moon—and Star!
You are very far—
But were no one
Farther than you—
Do you think I'd stop
For a Firmament—
Or a Cubit—or so?

I could borrow a Bonnet
Of the Lark—
And a Chamois' Silver Boot—
And a stirrup of an Antelope—
And be with you—Tonight!

But, Moon, and Star,
Though you're very far—
There is one—farther than you—
He—is more than a firmament—from Me—
So I can never go!

by Emily Dickinson.

A Night-Piece By Millet

Wind and sea and cloud and cloud-forsaking
Mirth of moonlight where the storm leaves free
Heaven awhile, for all the wrath of waking
Wind and sea.

Bright with glad mad rapture, fierce with glee,
Laughs the moon, borne on past cloud's o'ertaking
Fast, it seems, as wind or sail can flee.

One blown sail beneath her, hardly making
Forth, wild-winged for harbourage yet to be,
Strives and leaps and pants beneath the breaking
Wind and sea.

by Algernon Charles Swinburne.