The air is still, in the darkness of night, 
Shadows looming from a moon that’s bright
Strange noises heard, with a sense of fright, 
The heart pounds loudly, in a chest so tight, 
In the forest alone, and after dark, 
Why am I here, to myself I remark, 
As I lean on a tree, against its bark, 
Knowing tonight will leave a mark, 
Rumors and tales, of a story told, 
Mystery awaits, somewhere in the fold, 
It’s out there, in the air so cold, 
Waiting and watching, or so I’m told, 
I must stay focused, I must move on
Something moves, a deer with a fawn, 
Continue my trek, before light of dawn, 
Mystery awaits, that‘s why I‘m drawn, 
To know the truth, or just a tale, 
Of a spectral in white, with a long streaming veil, 
A ghostly bride, looking so pale, 
Searches were made, but to no avail, 
Only appearing, as she looks for her mate.
Only appearing to those sharing a trait, 
Of the man she wed, before meeting her fate, 
She waits each night, before it‘s to late..                
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
 
                    