the moon and the grave are amazing night scenes. Poetry is filled only by a line: the moon above the grave.
Everyone has a full moon night, but not everyone has a special experience on a full moon night. Everyone can feel the nuance of the beauty of a full moon night, but not everyone cares about the full moon.
The night and the full moon shone like a million-color streak on the canvas. The mosaic of human experience captures the unimaginably rounded round moon. The beauty that stuck in this inner sky may not fall out by the waves of water progress of the times.
Not all the orongs managed to find the sincere people. They are disappointed and sad, for fear of the few people on earth who have a sincere soul of goodness. If so they will return to the moon gloomily and have to be patient waiting for the next full moon phase.
Hearing it, Purnama again tried to look at the sky. He looked up with a frown, as if trying so hard that a full moon image could be captured in his whitened eyeballs. But in vain, the boy's eyeball can not be used to see the world, let alone full moon.
Night fetched the dawn, while me still could not close my eyes. Sakantujlemeh really haunted him. Especially a few months of this very long drought. And that means there will be another victim to be afflicted by traditional elders.
How can we not imitate the full moon? We should be ashamed. How we always expect something after what we give in return. How do we instantly feel inferior, not confident, complain, even protesting God because of imperfections that exist in us. How do we immediately complain when a little insult we accept. Are you shy? I'm honestly embarrassed.