Rational men among us state plainly
- that no ghosts walk among us.
But they haven't really searched the shadows,
or smelled the sweet musk-roses you wore
when windchimes twinkle like your laugh.
If ghosts haunt, then spirits linger.
If ghosts bedevil and terrorize,
spirits hangout, abide and remain.
Time is as nothing to them,
they are now and they are then.
We are shadows, that are becoming
shadows, that were shadows before.
Rational men know what they see,
but they're dull and though waking,
remain unaware that lemures tamper,
with impressions, subconscious voices
and barely perceptible shenanigans,
across death's thin, permeable veneer.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem