The Sleep-walker - Maurice Rollinat

With his hat on his head and his cane in his hand,
A black morning-coat hugging his stiff bony frame,
He strode this way and that on the edge of the roof
Like an automaton, superhumanly spry.

A singular stroller, ghost, caricature,
He kept walking, retracing his perilous path.
On a parchment-hued background of threatening sky
His funereal figure loomed tall and clear-cut.

Of a sudden an infernal lightning-bolt flashed
As he skirted the void, barely missing the drain,
With the quick dancing step of a somnambulist,

And stark horror filled me, congealing my blood,
For an ebony cat, hydrophobic and huge
With a screech had just wakened the sleep-walking man.

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Maurice Rollinat (1846 - 1903) France
Translated by Kendall Lappin
Source: Thomas Ligotti Online