Every night she stands by the window,
peeping inside and whispering low,
Watching me with eyes, deep and green,
which have haunted me even in my dream.
I put my mind to sleep and pretend,
too scared to know her real intent,
am I her food or her idea of fun?
is she a ghost or my imagination?
She calls out my name in a sweet voice,
I gather all strength and open my eyes,
she gives a smile so pure and rare,
I hold her soft hands barely aware.
Silky and golden hair touch her knees,
cute deep dimples flirt her cheeks,
the long eyelashes and a delicate nose,
smooth but sharp, her slanted eyebrows.
Now she fills my soul with a lovely image,
and my love travels on a different voyage,
my mind is thrilled as the fears roast,
she gladdens my heart though she is a ghost.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem