Moonlight is rare, I ask the Heaven, with a cup of wine in hand,
"Does God in the Heaven ever know the year? "
I want to fly by the wind, but fear the Paradise is high and cold, not like here in the World, anyway, I'm lonely.
The Moon revolves above the horizon, down and low, she shines me sleepless.
Why should I hold hatred that the Moon turns full when my family goes apart?
People come and leave, as the Moon turns wax and wane, this is the fact unchanged forever.
So what I can only expect is my family sharing the same Moon tonight.
Last edited by pluiepoco; 08-01-2005 at 12:11 PM.
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