The cosmos is full of painful sparkle,
The purity is so immense this way,
Its devoted ends are folding in, like a mattress
Or a tube of hardness, that wraps around.
The space will define the space,
The times of the day and night are stages
Of staggering stags, seen in the light.
Twinkling, winking and defining the changes,
Stars become a starlight, fighting the pixels
Of light and sight, seeds of flowers in the night.
This cosmos, this joy to bring to the fore,
Enlightens my sound of manhood.
The cosmic rights are sounding of voice,
Retaliating in fright, reducing the sights of moons
And stars that collide and die,
Of all the supernovae.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem