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The Crazed Moon
| Crazed through much child-bearing | | The moon is staggering in the sky; | | Moon-struck by the despairing | | Glances of her wandering eye | | We grope, and grope in vain, | | For children born of her pain. | | | | | | Children
dazed or dead! | | When she in all her virginal pride | | First trod on the mountain’s head | | What stir ran through
the countryside | | Where every foot obeyed her glance! | | What manhood led the dance! | | | | | | Fly-catchers of
the moon, | | Our hands are blenched, our fingers seem | | But slender needles of bone; | | Blenched by that
malicious dream | | They are spread wide that each | | May rend what comes in reach. |
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By PanEris
using Melati.
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