Dec. 1st, 2023

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a poem miss mum remembered. in autotranslation.

I have niged for the sickle of the new moon.
Three things I have silently wished for.
The first is you
and the other is you
and the third is you, my dear.
But no one gets to know a secret.
I have niged for the sickle of the new moon
three times to earth now.

And if the moon can grant what we wish,
then I negate three more times,
and crown I wear,
when the ground settles
and the birches sway with greenery
and the larks play their drill.
It is slow to desire and desire.
O, were my love were here!

Now lift him up, storm cloud, on the wing
and take him, dare, on your back.
He is young like me,
he's hot like me
he is beautiful and strong like no other,
and seldom shall I sleep and be safe
in his arms once under the wing
of the night, until night becomes day.
vaa: (Default)


just follow your voice
that deep inside
it might be scary
and it can seem like
youve fucked up
but everything
turns out the
better then

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happiness is something you remember

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