Celestial thespians
tread the boards
like true professionals
enacting a timeless play
called ‘The Coming of Day.'
Night, slowly parts the stage curtain.
Sun, ignites a flame below the horizon
and sends forth its herald, the Dawn.
Stars, their long vigil now ended,
leave the stage, tired and faded.
The Moon lingers a little longer,
attends to the one who is greater,
then fades in the light of the Sun.
The audience are ecstatic, thrilled,
birds and larks with song applaud.
The Play is in great demand.
No one wants it ever to end.
At the closing of each day
we wish, hope and pray,
to see once more that play
Called, ‘The Coming of Day'.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem