Who else has felt the moon tonight?
Who else has felt the moon tonight — ?
How she tears me away from ripping open my itchy flesh
— in cool darkness rosy mosquito kisses blossom on my skin
And tingle me with an insufferable nightly itch!
The moon reaches down and parts my hand away
from the tight forest of thistles sprout over my chin
She is a gentle lover who cannot bear to see her beloved consumed by his stupid and nocturnal thoughts — !
O who else has felt the moon tonight — ?
Her pale wide halo of gossamer-light spills down my balcony
The cool air and her caress are a balm to my irritated skin and wits!
Ah, but that coy, unwincing eye above pries my private anxieties —
At least she convinces me there is no need for confessions,
for long have we have known each other, season after season
— Nothing is likely to change…
— Why (I ask) should I continue to love these moonlit seasons all the beguiled days of my life?
Do the stars tire of their constellations? Do they count themselves slaves to an undying sun?
Ah, but we are not stars, my moon, we remain unsuspended, free to wander this humble rock —
No, we are more like dogs who will return to their vomit!
O mercy me, mosquitos and sleeplessness and the moon! I am delirious!
(That is enough for me, that is enough for me tonight!)
Now so long as there is a God who dwells within me, and so long as I seek him
Who would steer me away from the deceitful spirit’s words —
— Then do I long to live the life of a well-ordered sonnet
and so hang as tranquilly as an star that rhymes around the sun — !