The aftermath of star caved in
resembles an inverted grin
at least to my awestricken eyes
when viewing Chandra's scopic guise
of Vela Pulsar's stormy spin.
From out of sonic spatial din
its throbbing tones in sound akin
were music scored to melodize
the aftermath.
Pulsation glitches underpin
the tag of ‘rare' it chanced to win,
precession caused perhaps in whys
of how this oddness might arise,
as neutron star came to begin
the aftermath.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem