Beneath the full moon's silver lamp alight,
The world, in hushed reverence, bows its head,
A tapestry of stars, against the velvet night,
Where wisdom speaks, what hearts have left unsaid.
The whisper of the pines, a solemn hymn,
Flows gently through the fields of ashen gold;
And streams, like mirrors, gleam at twilight's rim,
Reflecting truths too sacred to be held.
Compassion walks where wildflowers softly bloom,
Your hands outstretched to heal the wounded soul;
Empathy builds a bridge through paths,
Uniting those divided by their toil.
Forgiveness, like a tide, sweeps clean the shore,
Revealing treasures buried deep below,
And duty, steadfast, seeks to open doors.
That lead through trials that only love can know.
The moon, kept full by hearts that dare to give,
Shines on the hopeful paths we rise above;
For in our gratitude, we truly liveβ
Servants of this life, and keepers of its love.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem