When a full moon rises
above the mountain top—
like a cherry atop a Bakewell tart;
folk are heard-singing wildly in the trees,
loons-wail-come down, come down!
The birds they'll all get muddied knees.
When the same folk-go
skinny-dipping without panties on,
loons have been heard-wailing, get out! Get out!
'The fish they're hiding, fearfully in the reeds.'
'My child, life's story is always like this?
A jigsaw with many a missing piece.'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Full moon rises as cherry atop.....beautiful imagination and marvellous work shared really.