There is no moon;
the sun has left for lands unknown;
the circle of the stars and planets
has been erased from heaven.
Of day and night
all distinction is obscured.
What is this crime
committed by the serried ranks of clouds!



the sun

The sun grows steadily from its watered root
by reason of the ambrosia poured from her moon-bowl by Night
as by a gardener girl desiring a new garden,
in fact, the world.
As it grows from out its trench,
the Eastern Mountain’s ring of peaks,
red as fresh coral, may it bring you joy,
this first sprout of the tree of day.