A clear, cool night. I have been reading,
    but the thoughts of man do not solace me.
I raised the curtain and looked at the moon,
    clear and silvery; and I brushed
    some of the unrest out of my mind.
I know all the theories of the moon.
    There have been times when the symbols
    of science have robbed me of some of its
    mystery and charm
But no one can explain the moon any
    more than a grasshopper can explain me.
In youth, the moon promised too much.
    But now I understand better; that was not
    the moon's fault.
Also the moon and I have this in common:
    we both are wanderers across the night.