I was a little boy then
When we visited our village
By our fate, we bumped into
The tale of a dreaded ghost

It instilled fear in my heart
My nights were long and silent
My days short and full of pace
The only story that circulated in me
Was of the dreaded ghost

They said
When you hear a baby crying in the woods
Conceal your sympathy
And quietly run for your life
For some have seen it crying like a baby
Slowly, coming out from those woods

They said
When you hear a goat bleating in the bush
By fate your goat is missing
Do not celebrate when it is found
Quietly run for your life
For some have found the ghost bleating
In those bushes, hoping to find a lost goat