(Moon Poems For The Children/Fairy-Tales For The Children) The Moon'S A Brass-Hooped Water-Keg, A Wondrous Water-Feast. If I Could Climb The Ridge And Drink And Give Drink To My Beast; If I Could Drain That Keg, The Flies Would Not Be Biting So, My Burning Feet Be Spry Again, My Mule No Longer Slow. And I Could Rise And Dig For Ore, And Reach My Fatherland, And Not Be Food For Ants And Hawks And Perish In The Sand.