Above Paris
The moon is violet.
It turns yellow
In the dead cities.
There is a green moon
In all legends.
Spider Web Moon
And broken canopy,
And over the deserts
It is deep and bloody.

But the white moon,
The only true moon,
Shines on calms
Cemeteries of villages.

by Federico Garcia Lorca, Chansons sous la lune

thanks for sharing great post
follow you