The sky stretches wide,
a canvas of endless ink.
Pinpricks of light scatter across,
whispering stories older than time.
Each star, a distant memory,
a flame that burns beyond reach.
Silent witnesses to the passage
of lives, dreams, and forgotten prayers.
Beneath their gaze,
the world feels smaller,
its chaos quieted by the stillness
of the infinite above.
In the hush of night,
the stars speak,
not in words,
but in the language of wonder.
And as shadows lengthen,
the soul finds rest,
cradled by the vastness
of a universe unbroken.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Stars definitely speak in the language of wonder, beautiful poem