THE NEW MOON

Tonight in the fragrant air
The New Moon is a cradle
Hanging from the Evening Star.

Latin music on my radio,
On all sides the dark forest.
It's as Beauty, God,
That You drive us mad.

As I round a curve
The cradle of the New Moon
Is almost touching the ground.

I keep driving toward her.
If only I can climb 
Onto such a swing,

Maybe I too 
Can become full,
Then quietly disappear.