You shall not do as the witches do,
The pages of the book instructed;
As if it were the only bible, real
To which my living soul entrust'd.
In a dream, I flew through air
Into the vent, of the house next door;
Where in the attic, they opened a book
And showed me the verse, was printed there.
And many a dream since then's forgot,
And many a dream since then was borne;
But the words that night saved in my heart,
As though were meant for me, alone.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem