The stars will reappear, suddenly,
Just like the sun and its planets.
The stars embrace me when fatigue appears,
A dormant spectacle of the stars.
I got tired of my music that sang,
My bodies are numbered one, the old age.
Roof of my tent is absurd, on this side,
As the rain and the sun glimmer and splatter.
My star called our star persuaded us to care
About the pureness of purposes conceived.
May your jewels of the soul be a fortnight away,
Must we just end this hope forever?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem