Who lied that the moon hung only in the sky?

I poured the moon in my teacup.
It was floating.

Mouthful moonlight.
Glorious celebration of an orchestra
from scattered crickets.

Translated by Przemyslaw Musialowski 8/15/2018

Late moon
takes the baton
- offering to the twilight
a bow in sacrifice:
with glow greeting
star aesthetes
- an orchestra of crickets
- eternal poets,
so that songs of love
inspired by the muses
- they would loudly sing
in the thickets.

Wieslaw Musialowski 10/9/2001

Cherry on top
Cherry on bottom
My heart is sinking
Straight to the bottom
The crickets say
They are ashamed of me
And the mosquitos take their aim at me
Cherries are crushed
No longer sweet
Rotten and bitter
False retreat
Writing at night
Gives me strange thoughts
Cherry on bottom
Cherry on top
Outside
At night
Is messing
With my mind

Behind the heater

crickets chirp at their loudest –


to put me to sleep.

Until the day breaks
The moon will rise and
End with the crickets

Talking next to you for hours
Turning cigarettes into flowers
Listening to the cricket's song
Can't sleep, awake all night long
Thinking of your, your voice, your heart
Being away from you tore me apart
Dancing by the lake
Moon's reflections shattered
Darling, I will wait,
You are all that matters
Found a plastic bag,
filled it up with violets
Listen to the sound
Of forgetting the violence
Streetlights
And store lights
Wandering with you
Darling how
I wish I knew
What I mean to you

Talking next to you for hours
Turning cigarettes into flowers
Listening to the cricket's song
Can't sleep, awake all night long
Thinking of your, your voice, your heart
Being away from you tore me apart
Dancing by the lake
Moon's reflections shattered
Darling, I will wait,
You are all that matters
Found a plastic bag,
filled it up with violets
Listen to the sound
Of forgetting the violence
Streetlights
And store lights
Wandering with you
Darling how
I wish I knew
What I mean to you