Soul of the clouds
Nocturnal and
Mourning.
Skeleton yet
Wearing spectacles
The same black spectacles
You wore
Before an inhabitant of
This cemetery
You came.
In the summer
You hear
The chants of the ghosts
And more shrill
The crickets and the
Grasshoppers woken
Chant.
I asked you.
You still
Will choose
Between Immortality and
Here
To be inhabitant of
This cemetery
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem