Though the sun sleeps and shadowy
Nightmares haunt the fragile nest,
There are Guardians. But where are they?
Why in hiding must they rest?
Now we must listen... hear it?
There is only silence. But still,
In the midst of the deafening darkness,
I hear the only beauty: Light.
Now we must hear... that's it!
They burn bright, by day or night.
They blaze at many million degree.
Like lions, they, with heated explosion, roar.
They scare away total murkiness
And save us from complete somberness.
Though they be faint and their distance great,
They speak to us through the most stillness and silence.
'We see you.', they say and later tonight,
With open eyes, hear their speech with sight.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem