Flaring like the fires of the sun
knighted stars strung high now come undone,
Wishes once held silent whisper near,
waiting for their wishers to appear.
Gazing ever-up as stars look down,
falling seems misleading from the ground.
Cover or to catch what should I do,
wishes sought might ease or blister through.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem