Two Moons
Hsu Chih-Mo

Two moons I see,
The same in shape, yet different in feature.

The one’s just in the sky
Decked in a gown of bird-plumes.
She does not stint her favours,
Her gold and silver spread o’er all the earth.
She does not forget the titles on the palace-roof.
And the Three Lakes brim and glisten with her beauty.
Over the clouds she leaps, over the tree-tops,
And hides herself in green shades of the vine.
She is so delicate and comely
Even the fish within the lakes are rapt!
And yet she has a flaw—
The naughty habit of becoming thin:
Sometimes the sparks of stars are seen aloft
But not her round enchanting countenance.
And though she may return at other seasons
This absence is a torture too excessive.

Another moon there is you cannot see,
Despite the splendour of her radiance.
She also has her dimple-smiles
And grace of movement;
She’s no less generous than the other moon—
What a pity that you cannot see my garden!
Sublime her sorcery,
Kindling and quickening my ecstasies:
I love her sudden swell of silver waves
Lapping with melodies of silver bells,
Even her foam, blown white like horses’ tails,
Fostered more tenderly than deep-sea pearls.
A full and perfect moon
Who never wanes.
Whenever I close these eyes of mine
She rises up and sails into the heavens.