My wine glass is full of moonlight,
drank and floated dreamily, on a carpet of night.
Couldnít resist the moonís pull, my home bathed
in a spectral light, both beautiful and mortal.
Flowers in the garden were deadly pale, olive trees wore
silver capes of unrelieved sorrow
This nocturnal landscape isnít to my liking, put me down,
red, green and golden are my colours
But I did glimpse, behind the tall mountain, nightís ultimate
sacrifice, giving birth to dawn