Soju's short poem is about loss, and about something left unfinished. The speaker addresses a "you" who "gave birth to an empty book" before their own book "reached its epilogue." The poem doesn't say who this person is, but the images suggest a parent, or someone who brought a life into the world and died before their own story was complete. The "empty book" seems to stand for that new life, still blank, with nothing yet written in it. The person's own book is the life they were living, cut short before the ending.
The speaker's feeling is plain longing and regret. They wish the person could have read "even but a chapter" of what came after. That small request is what makes it hurt: the speaker isn't asking for a whole lifetime, only a glimpse. The repeated "How I wish" closes the poem like a quiet sigh. The mood is tender, sad, and a little helpless, and the title, "Wish to Stars," adds a sense of speaking to something far away that can't answer.