A young poet thinks of the beloved
Leonard Pieter Joseph Michielsen
The moon climbs upwards, a dreamer in love,
in order to rest in the blue of night.
A gentle breath of wind kisses
the clear mirror of the pond
causing a melodious movement.
Oh lovely sound, when two things come together
which were created in order to be united.
Oh dear. Things created to be united
rarely come together on this dark Earth.