Moonlight

O more fragrant every flower rises

in midnight's gentle moonlight,

when I mention the sweet flower

that smiles on me in daytime.

And while I praise star and moonlight,

that sweetly rests on the soft flowerbed,

that child I call my own

is both starbeam and flowers' splendour.

And I bow towards the white flower,

it seems dream and scent surround me;

and I float towards the silent stars,

and whisper my memories;

And with lips opened I silently

ponder my love.