Oh How the Sun Laments the Passing of the Moon
- Antonio Fowl Stark
- Jun 4, 2015
- 2 min read
Oh how the sun laments
The passing of the moon
Oh how each drop
Condense the white moonlight
Oh how He shines
Oh how He burns bright
Oh how He conquers, how He goes aflame
How he consumes the world in His white glory!
He sitteth himself
On the Throne up high
Demands he the alter of compliance
Half gods are worshipped
In wine and flowers
Real gods are paid homage
Through blood
Vivus reached the lunar
And were found welcome
Never will any life
Seek to find
Le sol
Oh how the sun laments
The passing of the moon!
How she must flee
The rise of the sol
Everyone flees
From the flame
Oh begone the rue
Oh forgetted the woe
Oh befought the foe!
What life has to offer
Let me burn them all!
But do remember
This body cannot
Feel the cold
Let me have
The one thing
The providence allowed
To see the land rejoice
Under my burning self
To see the light reflect
Under thee white veils
What there has to pass between us
I now burn the wound close
Where crimson was spilt
Now drops that condensed
That condensed moonlight
The line now made
Le sol, le terre, la lune
Let the world pass between
To endow the blessing of forgetfulness
What shall I see
When everything crumbles
What will there be left
But black empty space
To company the sun?
Oh how he dwells
Amidst a grander cosmos
Yet knowing he is but
A tiny star among billions
Too far away
To share each’s warmth
Oh how he laments
Oh how he grieves
The passing of the moon
The passing
Of the moon
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