--"Golden Moon" (by Cheryl Robertson)

The Moon

by Emily Dickinson

The moon was but a chin of gold
A night or two ago,
And now she turns her perfect face
Upon the world below.
Her forehead is of amplest blond;
Her cheek like beryl stone;
Her eye unto the summer dew
The likest I have known.
Her lips of amber never part;
But what must be the smile
Upon her friend she could bestow
Were such her silver will!
And what a privilege to be
But the remotest star!
For certainly her way might pass
Beside your twinkling door.
Her bonnet is the firmament,
The universe her shoe,
The stars the trinkets at her belt,
Her dimities of blue.

Famous Chinese Prose Poem

How often does the bright moon come?
With Wine, I ask of the blue sky.
In the heavily palaces,
I wish to return there, riding the wind,
but fear that in the high places of jade halls and eaves,
I cannot fend off the cold. Rising to dance with my clear shadow,
scarcely possible that I among men,
turn around the red lacquered pavilions,
dip below the silken-curtained windows,
shine on the sleepless.

There ought not be regrets,
but why so often are you full at times of parting?
Men have sorrow and joy and farewell and union.
The moon has clouds and clear skies,
waxing and waning.

Perfection is rare since days of old,
so wish only that the years be long,
to share beauty even across a thousand miles.

- Su Shih (lived in the Song Dynasty (1037-1101)

(The poetry found on this page is in the public domain. The Moon art is my own!)

© 1996-2008 Cheryl Robertson at Moonlight Systems
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