When black cats prawl and pumpkins gleam, may luck be yours on Halloween....
My boy Bertie: In the great silence of my favorite month, October (the red of maples, the bronze of oaks, A clear-yellow leaf here and there on birches), I celebrated the standstill of time. The vast country of the dead had its beginning everywhere: At the turn of a tree-lined alley, across park lawns. But I did not have to enter, I was not called yet. Motorboats pulled up on the river bank, paths in pine needles. It was getting dark early, no lights on the other side. I was going to attend the ball of ghosts and witches. A delegation would appear there in masks and wigs, And dance, unrecognized, in the chorus of the living." - Czeslaw Milosz, All Hallow's Eve Translated by Czeslaw Milosz and Leonard Nathan