Trevor Belmont and Sypha Belnades walk along the beaten, tattered worn out path
Along with love and hope as their guides
They make their way from where they are to the other side
They make it from the cemetary
After planting flowers in the dirt
In front of the tombstones
They walk to their secret place to which no one knows
They see the fog and the mist
They cloak themselves in the darkness
Side by side they gaze out at the estuary
The ferryman lies in wait
For Trevor and Sypha walk hand in hand
As they approach the ferryman
They pay their toll
And walk aboard his barge
For a night, to see the lake as large
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem