That Chinese box
Your wares untasted
From whence arose
The lunar doom
Of my obsession.

Some oriental harmony
I never heard

Auspicious omen of prosperity
That passed me by
Like cloud shadow across moon
On a restless night
Long ago.

Your pale and autocratic beauty:
Moon over wall-gate in frontier
Long gone
Like life on a distant planet;
I am out of your orbit . . .

Still you circle
Serving others more worthy
Of your light.

I still love you, Mooncakes
Though I shall never taste you.