I see a shape in the old shed window and think I will investigate
I turn the key in the stiffened lock and something makes me hesitate
A noise inside, like none before, suggests life, rustle, movement, scratch
Brave for my age I might well seem, but this perhaps might prove my match.
Proceed I must into darkened gloom with spider- webs to race the heart
Creaking door, diffusing light, my beating pulse has fled the chart
Stale, dank air brushes past, a smell, a squeak, my tempo quickens
Relief and joy replace the fear, for in the corner; a cat and her kittens.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem