The moon can’t know it is serene and clear,

Nor sand that it is sand. No thing may soon

Nor can it even know it is the moon,
Nor can it even know it is the moon,
Nor sand that it is sand. No thing may soon
Nor sand that it is sand. No thing may soon
Or ever know it has a strange form here. —Jorge Luis Borges, translated by Willis Barnstone
Or ever know it has a strange form here.
—Jorge Luis Borges, translated by Willis Barnstone

One response to “The moon can’t know it is serene and clear,”

  1. Our land and sky don a different costume every evening. You’re the one who collects them all for us. Even though I’m by your side when you do it and I see a part of what you see, you enable me to return to that Broadway play any time I want. I’m bowing to you and what you do for so many hours every day.

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