The night arrived talking about
my grief
I looked up at the moon
and it began to weep.
Why do you cry O bright one
It's my pain,
let me whimper alone.
I stood up on my toes, and
raised my arm to reach
the moon
who still sobbed on.
With my sleeves
I wiped its tears off
The mist clung in the air
and wrapped the world
in a thick fog.
The moon kept humming
a melancholic tune!
Under the Crying Moon -- Yanni Plum Wdwa
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