Beneath the Southern Cross
are two pointers that catch my eyes
and I wonder to where
their direction is taking me,
while the whole world
with time is estranging around me.
The Southern Cross is bright
against the dark sky
and I am trying to find direction
and see a bright light winking,
past and through the darkness
and this light draws me
like the wise men
that it lead to the child.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem