The lifeless lunar landscape stretches out
Before my eyes in shades of grayish-white,
And only craters love the endless drought–
The heat of day–the chilling cold of night.
A rising orb dispels the black of space,
And strong emotions swell–too deep for Freud.
The Earth, so pregnant with the human race,
Is thirsting there to fill the awful void.
Will mankind propagate among the stars,
Or will some minor cosmic accident
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem