Why do people look inside my windows?
When they pass along the street at night
Maybe they think we are up to something
And the view they'd have would be a welcome sight
Voyeurs everyone of them, these viewers
They look as though they're stalking us for days
We cannot help but wonder if they're mental
Or maybe they're just twisted in their ways
The other day, a person took the liberty
Of walking down our garden to the door
Like it was just some river or a tributary
That led to places they'd not been before
We hid behind the curtains with them staring
Peering in our windows for a while
We felt that we should scare them whilst preparing
To make them break the record for the mile
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem