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Back Yard

Carl Sandburg, 1878 - 1967

Shine on, O moon of summer.
Shine to the leaves of grass, catalpa and oak,

All silver under your rain to-night.

An Italian boy is sending songs to you to-night from an accordion.

A Polish boy is out with his best girl; they marry next month;
to-night they are throwing you kisses.

An old man next door is dreaming over a sheen that sits in a
cherry tree in his back yard.

The clocks say I must go—I stay here sitting on the back porch drinking
white thoughts you rain down.

Shine on, O moon,
Shake out more and more silver changes.

From The Chicago Poems (Henry Holt and Company, 1916) by Carl Sandburg.

© Павел Кричевский