Now I'm going to do a moon poem, another poem which
has to do with the moon.
I don't know how I really got into all this moon business.
But this is "The Voice of the Moon."
And it's just loosely-constructed thoughts
about the moon.
When I wake in the night, troubled and thinking
I heard the cry of a bird, I go to the window and look out.
Then I realize, it was the cry of the moon.
Years ago, I thought I heard the voice of mountains
which spoke only at night.
Since then, I have listened many times, and I was mistaken.
It was the echo of the voice of the moon.
When I am unhappy, the moon reminds me
that all things change.
And when I'm happy, it does the same thing.
I can believe that men have walked on the moon.
Men would do a thing like that.
But when I am told the moon is a huge round stone which does not
change its shape and has no light of its own,
I cannot believe it.
I have heard the voice of the moon.
When I become confused and do not know who I am,
I listen to the voice of the moon.
The moon knows who everyone is and forgives all of us.
When the moon is new, it begins at the beginning
and tells the same story straight through to the end.
It is a long story, but we listen and believe.
Who can doubt the voice of the moon?
It is important to learn the habits of the moon.
Otherwise, one might wait all night, and it would not appear.
And when the sun rose, triumphant, one might despair,
believing the moon had been destroyed
and would never return.
The sun is like fire.
It takes what it wants, and pays no attention to anyone.
But the moon knows each of us.
It looks into our eyes and remembers all our names.
When we watch the sun go down, we
are impressed with its glory.
When we watch the moon go down, we want to go with it.
The sea, the wind, and the owl try
to imitate the voice of the moon, but none succeed.
Beethoven and Debussy tried to write its song.
But compared to the voice of the moon, one of them
created the sound of screen doors slamming,
and the other the sound of a pork chop being fried.
When the moon rises in the afternoon
and sets too early to be of any use, I remember how old I am,
and that I no longer have the option of dying young.
When I sleep and moonlight comes through the window
and touches me, I become a dream.
No man turns into a wolf when the moon is full.
But wolves howl when the moon is full
because they hear its voice.
Some think the moon is silent.
They are blind.
[APPLAUSE]