I always feel a presence now,
Just behind my back:
And when I whirl around to stare,
I'd swear it's staring back.
I always feel that someone's there,
And why they hide, I do not know;
Or maybe that it's just that they
Don't have a thing to ever show?
How horrid to be all alone,
And lurk in someone's house;
And all your stares and noises
Can not one creature rouse.
No mirror would show your opposite,
No shadow graze your tracks;
And you'd spend every bit of time,
Behind somebody's back.
If I should die some future day,
And not go anywhere;
I hope I will not haunt someone-
Or they won't know I'm there.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem