We, the ghosts, must see men fear
Our shadows must chase them
What we whisper they must hear
Every mid-night, oh listen, hem!
Every night we must break their necks
One hundred twists their heads must get
If they make war, or never check
Jealousy, the world of fever and fret.
We are petty much better than men
No battle, no one abhors other, peace most.
We are quite happy in slumberous den;
So, ghosts are not ghosts, ye men are ghosts.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I wish we could emulate the noble qualities of a ghost as reflected in this wonderful poem. Thanks. We are petty much better than men So, ghosts are not ghosts, ye men are ghosts.