Summer's prettiest face is the moon now-
And we, people mimic it's beauty long
Until the summer's premises lastly avow
To pass by three months' misery, among
The olds and children of everyday.

Summer's prettiest face is the moon now-
More or twenty sparrows in our broken attic
Try hard to breed their broods, although
The summer moon does enchant them with it's stick
So, upon the roof or window side they fly and play.

Hence, the summer moon leases it's beauty to us
And we, people drenchedly sit under skies,
On the familiar courtyard to be pleased much
While North winds ignite desire in flying pies
To see through life or find good way.