The heavens shimmer with points of light
They poke their image through a canopy of dark
raging and churning with awesome might
They burn themselves a wondrous mark
They poke their way through a canopy of dark
to shine upon our imagination
They burn themselves a wondrous mark
For countless eons will they occupy their station
To shine upon our imagination
it is a goal for which they do not strive
For countless eons will they occupy their station
reminding man it is a mystery to be alive
It is a goal for which they do not strive
Raging and churning with awesome might
Reminding man it is a mystery to be alive
The heavens shimmer with points of light
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem