in the moonlight this old house
is looking ghastly pale
this view is heightening
wide-stretching large tree
incredibility, strange danger,
firmly I feel.there is already,
for ages even no inhabitants.
one walked away, other no longer
will also return.
only wallpapers old furniture,
is still holding appliances,
smells, tracks and vibrations,
as in the photograp,
closed strengthened for remembrance
you are shining your fleshlight
the white fountain in front of the house
but I can't hear the noise of water
is out of order.
a swing is hanging,
and box tree a long time ago not cut
gravel path under legs
it is creaking, all in leaves.
we are going from here.
we will come back in broad daylight...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem