The old gods have vanished long ago
yet in the dark a lone bird’s voice
reveals miraculous power.
The wind in the trees
the many rustling leaves
temper its melancholy song.
At last, the rising moon!
One taste of its potent shine
can drown two sorrows –
self and other.
Still, I can’t stop thinking of you,
the way your eyes blazed with light
when you found me at your door.