They came upon a night of dread
The cursed, the damned, the walking dead.
Brought by words best unsaid
And better left alone.
From the yard of eternal rest
Came each night these shrieking pest,
Creating in us a great repress
But leaving by the dawn.
They filled the streets with dreadful laughter
The night they came and three there after
Making with continual rafter
That chilled us to the bone.
We’ll not forget the nights they came,
Nor the erlking song of dread they sang,
Nor how the moment when our church bell rang,
All of them were gone.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem