Brilliant heavens of evening,
Distant stars clearly shining,
Bright as the rapture of childhood,
O why dare I send you nevermore greeting--
Stars, who are shining as clear as my joy?
What is thy sorrow?
Mortals make question.
This is my sorrow;
The heavens and the stars are--heaven and stars ever,
I am alas! but a perishing man!
Envies his neighbor;
I envy rather
Ye in your freedom, ye stars ever radiant,
And only would be in your places!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem