The Solar Odes

Golden Orb, Our Divine Sun
By your leave is all this done
To your worlds on which we dwell
An ode to homes that we know well

First the world men cannot tame
Globe embraced by solar flame

Next the closest to true Hell
What clouds hide it will not tell

Blue and Old, through rise and fall
Third the Mother of us all

Earth sees Selene in its sky
Above the dirt it does fly

Fourth the world of reddish hue
Beware Mars!  Cruel and true

Trampled by the Martian heel
Belters must their own wealth steal

Jovian Mass, near a sun
By men’s greed is all undone

The world of Rings is made strong
By gods and plagues, law and song

Seventh World, made to end lives
Moons of ice and men like knives

Stormy Neptune’s warlike kin
Punished for parents’ sin

The cold and many, small and poor
Kuiper’s orphans, mining ore

Beyond the Cliff nothing lives
Outside the gifts our sun gives

[Ed. Note: This classic poem by Hang Piao was written from his home in exile on Selene in 2649 CE, a few years before his death.  It is among his shortest works and the only written originally for Panglish.  Written for the child of a friend, it has become the work for which he is most well known outside of his native Mars.]

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