The Sun,
Perched atop the mountain,
Stood ‘midst two iron-clad clouds
Like a picture hung on a wall.
These clouds were sky’s frame,
Both of solemn character,
Like pillars they held the Heaven
That arched o’er the earth.
The Sun spawned shades;
Stretching thru forests
And across the valleys,
They played in the corn
These mythical soldiers of Sol.
The harvest was plentiful;
Fields lulled into a gentle sleep
As Dusk to greet;
The fieldsmen did wreathe
Many a flowers into bundles of color,
As to keep Dusk’s magic.
The roseate sky did burgeon sapphire;
The Sun, pale with gloom,
Did veil itself in silver
And became the Moon.
Moon strew her steel-clad spears,
Breached the abodes of forests;
She lay her star-cloak
\'Cross lakes and rivers.
All lay silent.
Time stood still.
A lonely peasant
Watched from his windowsill
How lady Moon fashions beauty
Out of the ugly banished by Sun;
Weeds blossom,
Naked trees crowned in starlight;
Laid on sky’s bosom
Earth’s under the Moon’s might.
Yet its reign’s far too brief;
The silver chains come undone,
Sapphire sky bleeds amber-gold
And the Dawn came to be crowned
The master of life once more.
Shamefully Moon retreats
Into her cavern,
Beyond all mortal sight;
Sings night’s lullaby,
To her heart’s delight.