When one sits alone in the pale moon's light
     a sense of clearness and irradiate peace 
     pervades the spirit

All things are masks
     in a world of silver order
          where everything is frozen and inconsequential.

Pattern supplants purpose;
     Cool air 
          Enfolds care

And the soul merges in the moonlight
And ascends translucent on its beams.

by Leon Malinofsky

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