hii i’m obsessed with your blog and wondered if you have any poems that mentions the moon 🌙
hi sweet anon, here you go ♡
— adonis, from selected poems; “season of tears” (tr. khaled mattawa)
“…and then suddenly at night all is crystal clear and the moon has gold wings.”
— from the letters of katherine mansfield
“the rosyfingered moon / surpasses all stars. And her light / stretches over salt sea / equally and flowerdeep fields.”
— sappho, from if not, winter (tr. anne carson)
“Moon marked and touched by sun / my magic is unwritten / but when the sea turns back / it will leave my shape behind.”
— audre lorde, from the black unicorn: poems; “a woman speaks”
“I have lived in a dream of innocence, she whispered to herself, as she watched the wrinkled moon-spattered ocean night after night… My innocence makes me weep.”
— susan sontag, from reborn: journals & notebooks
“The light of the moon poured down; its beauty, its radiance. And I grieved and grieved. I grieved for so long.”
— from phoebus was gone, all gone, his journey over (tr. eavan boland)
“...and now the moon comes stealing ... I cannot always see the light — please tell me if it shines.”
— emily dickinson, from selected letters
the definition of ‘moon’ in a dictionary, samuel johnson (1755)
“You can find me on the moon / waxing and waning, / my heart full of petals, / every single one begging love me, love me love me.”
— andrea gibson, from the madness vase
“This is what I have. The dull hangover of waiting, the blush of my heart on the damp grass, the flower-faced moon.”
—mary oliver, from blue horses
“E l’equivoco della luna
E il dondolio, dolcissimi,”
“And the unsteady moon
And its swaying—lovely, mild—“
— giuseppe ungaretti, from selected poems; “la morte meditate” (tr. andrew frisardi)
“...but she was not afraid of the moon because she was better adapted to the moon than to the sun and in the darkest dawns, with her eyes wide open, she would see the mysterious moon in the sky. Then, like people who take sunbaths, she would bathe herself completely in the moonlight. And she would feel thoroughly cleansed.”
— clarice lispector, an apprenticeship, or the book of delights
"Sweet stars, I’ll ask a softer question: Moon / attend me to the end. I’m here alone."
— theodore roethke, from straw for the fire
— yosa buson, tr. cheryl a. crowley
— louise glück, from “october”
— cat pierce, from “you belong to me”
“I am the moon’s looking glass. / My days are moon-dials. / She will never be done with me. / She needs me. / She is dry. / I leash to her, / a sea, / a washy heave, / a tide.”
— eavan boland, from new collected poems; “in her own image”
“Time drove the moon / down to crescent / and they found me / mortal / beside a moon’s crater / mouthing / the ocean names of night.”
— audre lorde, from undersong; “the maiden”
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