In the night walked I with cold feet since
That I was a ghost
Now.
The elms and firs and oaks tall and lank
Stood up sentinels and
Witnesses.
Amongst the tombs passed I and heard
Groans whispers talking
Heads bent and some in caps
Turbaned and white
In the night’s quiet silence
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem