Sorrows Of The Moon 歌词

	作词 : Ain
	Tonight the moon, by languorous memories obsessed,
	Lies pensive and awake: a sleepless beauty amid
	The tossed and multitudinous cushions of her bed,
	Caressing with an abstracted hand the curve of her breast.
	Surrendered to her deep sadness as to a lover, for hours
	She lolls in the bright luxurious disarray of the sky —
	Haggard, entranced — and watches the small clouds float by
	Uncurling indolently in the blue air like flowers.
	When now and then upon this planet she lets fall,
	Out of her idleness and sorrow, a secret tear,
	Some poet — an enemy of slumber, musing apart —
	Catches in his cupped hands the unearthly tribute, all
	Fiery and iridescent like an opal's sphere,
	And hides it from the sun for ever in his heart.

	zuo ci : Ain
	Tonight the moon, by languorous memories obsessed,
	Lies pensive and awake: a sleepless beauty amid
	The tossed and multitudinous cushions of her bed,
	Caressing with an abstracted hand the curve of her breast.
	Surrendered to her deep sadness as to a lover, for hours
	She lolls in the bright luxurious disarray of the sky
	Haggard, entranced and watches the small clouds float by
	Uncurling indolently in the blue air like flowers.
	When now and then upon this planet she lets fall,
	Out of her idleness and sorrow, a secret tear,
	Some poet an enemy of slumber, musing apart
	Catches in his cupped hands the unearthly tribute, all
	Fiery and iridescent like an opal' s sphere,
	And hides it from the sun for ever in his heart.

	zuò cí : Ain
	Tonight the moon, by languorous memories obsessed,
	Lies pensive and awake: a sleepless beauty amid
	The tossed and multitudinous cushions of her bed,
	Caressing with an abstracted hand the curve of her breast.
	Surrendered to her deep sadness as to a lover, for hours
	She lolls in the bright luxurious disarray of the sky
	Haggard, entranced and watches the small clouds float by
	Uncurling indolently in the blue air like flowers.
	When now and then upon this planet she lets fall,
	Out of her idleness and sorrow, a secret tear,
	Some poet an enemy of slumber, musing apart
	Catches in his cupped hands the unearthly tribute, all
	Fiery and iridescent like an opal' s sphere,
	And hides it from the sun for ever in his heart.

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