The moon is a boy and yet he's cute
he peeps from under the clouds
but I sleep under the sheets.

He sings at an impossible hour:
‘Nought are the stars, nought is the moon
it's off to bed the stars must soon
but it's time to wax for Jack 'o Light Moon.'

He mangles in a loud voice:
‘Kirk, you're no Adonis thinking
he's at the centre of things.
Spock, your rusty starship
isn't leaving anywhere at 25.00 hours
for the moon of Manakoora.'

Dim-witted owlets and rabbits
start the mousy-hair rocket
stew the piggy with the longest snout
for the moon is in the clouds, lies
asleep in my bed of roses.

Translation: , John Irons