Ring of the Moon

by J. W. Cassandra

The poem "Ring of the Moon" is the seventh and simultaneously the last poem of the cycle Mystery of Moonbeam Path. The poem begins with the playful assumption of the lyrical self: the filch of the ring of the Moon: what happens if someone steals it? The lyrical self casts the ring into a silver-mirrored lake: with this action, the childlike movement turns into a cosmic and magical image. The ring turns into a star, and enchanting things begin. The addressee of the lyrical self, who may even be the reader, gets from the silver spray to the gate of the Moon; here, he steps into the dance of existence.

The other half of the poem tells about the supposed loss of the ring and the magical consequences of its filch. The secret that appears in all the poems of the cycle appears here as well. The entire poem is characterized by the interweaving of childish, innocent mischief – he filches, casts into the lake, dance, and magic – magic spray, dance of existence, silver Lunar veil, swirling light. The rhythm of the poem is playful, reminds of rhymes, incantations, namely charms, which I have tried to render in the English version as well.

I think that now that I have published the complete cycle, it is worth re-reading all its poems in order: so the mystery of the Moon and the magical atmosphere that I have tried to paint in these poems will indeed be clear, as I felt in writing them.

Have a good reading time!

If I steal the Moon's bright ring,
In silver-mirrored lake I fling!
The ring casts ripples, pleats, and folds,
Mystic dance through spells unfolds!

Moon's bright ring is a star; it spins,
Upon the Earth, its faint light streams.
He on whom silver spray shall fall,
To him shall open magic's hall.

Moon-silvered halls for him shall wait,
Flung wide stands the Lunar gate.
Into the dance his being shall step—
No more a soul, world-forsaken!

If the Moon's bright ring be lost,
In thy dreams I'll be its host!
But to steal it, never try—
Moonlight spells shall bind thine eye.

If the Moon's bright ring thou shalt steal,
To silver-mirrored lake it fling!
A ring the lake casts, its secret it keeps,
'Neath Lunar veils, the mystery sleeps.

Thou canst not filch the Moon's ring bright:
Veiled in secret, in whirling light!
Silver-veiled its glow shall be,
To find it is to lose but thee…

Written: 11 / 02. 2026, by J. W. Cassandra
Translated: 25 / 02. 2026, by J. W. Cassandra

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