The Moth and Its Beloved Ask the moth the beauty of the candle And it will burn without a confession There is a secret to its longing For it feels no fear or hesitation The moth is too much in love with the flame Yet it does not appear under the sun For the moon’s light is far too feeble, and It gave up on its pursuit of the sun Just a sight of a candle is enough To remind it of its real beloved So it settles for that candle in reach, Revels in its heat, and asks to be burned
The moments spent with the beloved are Why, today, there is a loneliness The eyes that illuminated this world Are now gone to light up this sheer darkness
The moon stays beautiful with its craters So why then are you afraid of your scars?
And you think these collapses are your end But nebulas collapse to become stars.
Find me, as time is a luxury For I wait, under this naïve moon
I know surely you’re thinking of me, for I am strange, and you’re kind to the stranger
The more I loved you the more I found me
If your heart begins to carry burdens And you begin to feel your soul benight For you, perhaps, you may become heavy For me, my love, you will ever be light
These fragments, these shivers of my heart Are mere lifetimes enclosed in a minute
My poetry has been engraved with your name And my heart is by your memory scarred
But what good are scars if they do not ache? And what good are eyes if they do not weep? What good is desire if it does not hurt? What good is a passion if it stays ‘sleep?
There should be a limit to my suffering As I’m a sinner, not a disbeliever
