In ghostly skies a stellar glow
from erstwhile stars of long ago
that shone with splendor ere they died,
perchance were wished on starry-eyed,
still haunts in heavens' spectral show.
We gaze with wonder from below,
amidst our scurries to and fro,
at panoramas mythified
in ghostly skies.
The winds of fame and fortune blow
with sound and fury fiercely, though
our life be ebbing like the tide;
for death o'er all shall yet preside,
unfathomed as the cosmic flow
in ghostly skies…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem