• The moon rises above the fir trees,

    A white orb on the sky,

    As it rises higher, the air grows colder, the light dimmer.

    The light frozen in eternal beauty, everlasting.

    But, only for a moment it lasts,

    As the sun rises again,

    And the flowers bloom once more,

    The beauty, somehow everlasting,

    Fades into the sun,

    Only to return in the night.