Just a wisp of smoke in the twilight glow,
A fleeting image, quickly gone.
Passing by the darkened windows,
Maybe something long since done.
Did you see something, well maybe not?
You might have been deceived.
If you saw something, you don't know what,
Maybe a trick of the falling leaves.
But there is that unmistakeable sudden chill,
That makes your neck hairs stand.
You don't know exactly what you feel,
And there's that trembling in your hands.
Keep telling yourself there's nothing there,
There are no tiny floating lights.
But you wouldn't go in on a dare,
Especially in this bleak twilight.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
inherited lov with poems and nature, ... But there is that unmistakeable sudden chill, That makes your neck hairs stand. You don't know exactly what you feel, And there's that trembling in your hands.