Dusty curtains, tattered veils
Hidden corners, secret tales
Cobweb whispers, rusty nails
Cats curled up like furry snails
Gables, fables, greasy panes
Ghosts of ancient lords and dames
Echoes of forgotten names
Wars of roses, kings called James
Attic lattices worn thin
Travel trunks of weathered skin
Mannequins with pinched in waists
Fancy fashioned, kidneys laced
Shoes and boots once ran a race
Buckles, straps of dated grace
Yellowed lace to edge a snood
Pride of proper neighborhood
When the sun shines very bright
Trying to outrun the night
Creeping into minds to test
Attic thoughts will never rest.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Liilia, you are a fantastic poet! I enjoy everything I read! thank you