The stars look out on the past
Safe in their burning saddles;
The starry night won't pass
Far past the sprawling ladle.
The stars have diamond eyes
And ray of gas icicles,
That move through the changing skies,
For time was always fickle.
The stars can't close their eyes,
Though worlds are born or dying
Beneath the blackest ice,
With angel voices sighing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem