Dusk has fallen,

The cries of the spirits hover over the canefields,

Peenie-wallies flitter about,

A man pedals exhaustingly on his bicycle down the road,

Down the road to Bog Walk.........,

Clarendon, or May Pen,

Molasses intoxicates the air with its sweet aroma,

The jasmines, calendulas and wisterias scent the night,

It's pitch black,

Only farmland for miles,

The duppies cross the meadows as if dancing a dosi-do,

They disappear,

Where did they go?

No one knows.........