She worships me when I speak for public
And asks to performe encore,
And it is the voice and the sense she values
But not somebody’s applause.
And she repeats the lines of my poems
At night, when her husband sleeps,
In both tongues, but she doesn’t know
Who dictates them to me.
As Opera’s Phantom. With whom the treason? -
And her husband is amazed.
And this is the voice of an angel from heaven.
And it is God who dictates.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem