My Sun is perfect, fully apt to give energy,
May this perfect star be so small, so heavy.
The gaseous ball will quench the thirst,
Be like stars of the night, and stay then.
Bigger than the whole sky at black night,
The moon echoes the whims of the Sun.
The Sun is alive with sound and strategy,
Opening our heads with our hearts.
May it perform brilliantly as perfection commands.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A fantastic ode the your sun...symbolic one...meaningful poem indeed! ! !