There once was a man who lived on a hill
The world for him always seemed to stand still
For the time he spend alone in a chill
The demon crept along for the kill
But the time of a friend who lived in a mill
Saw fit the way to make haste for the hill
And saw the demon creeping to fill
The cup of blood that stood wait with a shrill
But no living thing could ever see
How a man brings this upon his destiny
Except for the friend who lies in wait
To save the man from his certain fate
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem