Some wait on pan
to brighten their night
with nymphs and styrs
and like in antiquity
believe that the book of the dead
have great powers of life
into the beyond
and wait on the devil or god to appear,
but mine eyes are set
on a higher place, of true light,
on the God that created all
of which the sun, moon and stars
are only implements and tokens
of His power and grace.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem