Crescent Moon

By: Gazal

Riding on skirts of the wind,
arriving gently into my realm.

Her mind pulses gently,
silently, like a distant star.

She guards her passion,
like a sharp sword within the sheath.

Like ice, that hard, frigid matter,
that melts willingly with time.

Her voice, timid, circumspect,
betrays her tormented soul.

I covet her, I desire her like a dervish,
twirling endlessly in the night.

She arrived and tortured me,
then returned like an easterly breeze.

弦月

她乘着清風的裙裾，

翩然而致我的領地。

輕輕地，靜靜地，

思緒閃動似星際。

被嚴守的熱情，

是她未出鞘的寶劍。

冰樣的堅硬寒冷，

終有消融的一天。

謹慎遲疑的聲線，

泄露了她靈魂的熬煎。

對她入髓入魔的思念，

令我狂舞的雙足徹夜地轉。

她留下無盡的折磨，

便如春風一轉不見。