Luna stalks the dead of night,
On dreadful shadowed wings.
Cape outstretched in silent flight;
A hungry wicked wanton thing.
Weary, restless heart strings,
Plucked by nameless fright,
Silenced as great Luna sings.
Screeching out her heart's delight;
Guess who, who, who'll eat you tonight
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem