The moon hangs like an empty building
above the bare branch of a tree
The child's dingling-dangling lantern
an attempt to ape Caspar David
you say

We don't ever know where we are
In a patch of woods on Earth in the wind
in a picture, on a piece of paper
‘Here': that deadliest of words

A word for moths
beloved nocturnal flutterers
pinned
in their wooden box

Translation: Susan Bernofsky