ODE TO A GHOST
 
  From my window I did watch you every night,
When the wind was blowing in weather bright,
Like a ghost from the heavenly sky.
Hiding in the branches of an old apple tree,
Yours beautiful face was so clear to me,
And you smiled, but I still wonder why.
 
  Iím looking right now for an explanation,
Are you only a mirage of my imagination?
When you visit me every night.
Are they dreams one wished will be true?
Something I dare not to think through,
But you are a wonderful sight.
 
  My families who usually speak so kind,
They claim that I'm out of my mind,
To believe that you are real.
But nobody can convince me you are not there,
When I see your face with the flowing hair,
And the irresistible sex-appeal.
 
  I beg you, my dear, please whisper to me,
That you are exactly what I pretend to see,
And not only an old man's dream.
Is the traffic too noisy to hear your voice?
Then there are, of course, another choice,
Don't whisper to me, but scream.