She looked at me, murdered me, roared at me;
It was clear, but she was rather reluctant to repeat.
I was glad to see her after the night,
Her development gained after the dawn.
She was coming towards me as fast as a spirit,
Wailing and echoing, chanting a song of higher horror.
She was like a ghost to me, easier to see than an invisible being
Wailing and chanting with the whole place to ourselves.
I waited for her to leave and give back my life.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem