What’s that tapping at the windowpane?
Why it’s only the sound of the wind and the rain.
What’s that shadow upon the blind?
Why it’s only a tree with the moon’s light behind.
What’s that creaking on the stairs?
Why it’s only the wood in the cool night air.
What’s that mournful cry in the night?
Why it’s only two cats, preparing to fight.
What’s that hiding under the bed?
Nothing my dear, it’s all in your head.
Do not be afraid of the things in the dark,
For you will be safe with the rise of the lark.
Yes, my terrors may fade with the morn’s early light,
But, they will be back, to haunt me tonight.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I love this poem! It's very cleverly written! Very impressive!