The children of Mother Moon

Mother Moon, Bathing Woman, in vain
you call and keep awake,
you won't find your children any more, we have
gone already along the far water routes,
in vain you call your children
on a star-lit night,
we have other names already,
we're now travellers-in-water,
with shiny metal scales we swim
out of the windows of a sunken palace
in whose holes the sleepy hairs
of seaweed flutter and flow.
Mother Moon, Bathing Woman, in vain
you look for us, we won't come back any more,
we're fishes now, crown-heads, we swim
out of the palace gates where
the slow tanks of jellyfish guard,
we swim with beaming sides
to the green sea of life,
we swim with reddish fins,
carrying a huge message on our lateral lines.

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