Poetry on moonlit nights

The moon is the poet's virgin, it illuminates with its pale light the verses that sleep in his heart. It enlivens his silent reason and lends him his blood so that he can write furiously.

On moonlit nights I thought of you. On moonlit nights I cried for you. On moonlit nights I imagined that your skin comforted my tired skin.

On moonlit nights I created these verses for you, my love.