It's the place all dreams are wished; 
shooting stars nearly missed. 
A million wonders beautifuly made; 
there for our pleasure, upon to gaze. 
it is shy and is hidden most the day; 
apearing at night on our backs we lay. 
Marveling at it's masterpiece created; 
it steals your breath, your senses drowned. 
Causing you to gasp for air utterly stunned; 
like a chill when you are most suprised. 
Black and endless like and abyss; 
who could have thought and made this? 
Consuming all and such a mystery; 
it has been pondered upon all through history. 
Studied and organized to a degree; 
but remains too complicated consitantly. 
But alas here comes the sun; 
and now the night disapears and is gone. 
Colors so beautiful and bright appear in the sky; 
Mother Earth is painting with all her skill and dye. 
The sun now sits high where the stars once were; 
an awesome phenomenom that always will occur. 
And that is the end and begining; 
of the open night skies coming and going.                
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
 
                    