Sitara

The Morning's Star

The Morning's Star was weeping, filled with dread, "I gained my sight, but not to see," it said.

The sun's own breath gives life to all I see, But dawn's hem grants no refuge unto me.

What is the station of a star so bright? A bubble's breath, a spark's brief flash of light.

I said, "O jewel on the brow of day, If ruin grieves you, come from heav'n away.

Descend from heaven's height with morning dew, My garden of verse has life to offer you.

I am its gardener, Love its season's prime, Its form is built to be as old as time.