Come! Come!
She laughed, the pretty
ghost.
In white without a spot
Come! Come!
amongst the tombs
she slid and
glided.
Night moon shone on
weak
fierce the stars
burnt
for her
she
from tomb to tomb
from
grave to grave
she went
weeping and laughing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem