Why its light is cool?
In a starry blue pool,
It appears so nice,
Seen it twice and thrice,
Why my eyes ask me,
Once more I should see,
Its face like she,
Just on the top of a tree.
By the way let me know,
When my hair will grow,
And why she is milky,
Why her hands are silky,
Why dark my complexion,
I remain in dejection,
Can you bring the moon?
Where it goes in the noon?
I shall play with the moon,
I shall sleep in the noon.
My lovely dear child,
How innocent and mild!
She was born in the day,
From a silky white clay,
You were born in the night,
Like moon you are bright,
Have a glass of milk,
Grow hair, make it silk,
See this silver bright tray,
Have moon in it and sleep,
The sleep should be deep,
She will come in your dreams,
Like this moon’s streams.
And here is a flute,
Your symbol my cute!