Alone, I hear a voice so young Who comes from a time so old Whose words have haunted me For so long Hidden in night’s dark shade Covered from gazing eyes Heard only by the wind A ghost that wanders the night In the night, it calls out aloud to me And it cries To face the anguish of the dead Of a child so torn Taken from a mother’s hands The flesh, long lifeless, decays The soul, that rises, aware A ghost now deadens the air Neque avelli possunt, nox umida donec invertit caelum stellis ardentibus aptum "And they cannot tear themselves away till the dewy night rolls round the heaven, inset with gleaming stars" (Virgil, Aeneid, Book XI, 201)