GR translation: wallpaper awhisper with peacocks

[Mike Jing]

P24.39-P25.7   As inputs to ACHTUNG got faster, often he‘d show up in
time to help the search crews—following restless-muscled RAF dogs into
the plaster smell, the gas leaking, the leaning long splinters and
sagging mesh, the prone and noseless caryatids, rust already at nails
and naked threadsurfaces, the powdery wipe of Nothing’s hand across
wallpaper awhisper with peacocks spreading their fans down deep lawns
to Georgian houses long ago, to safe groves of holm oak . . . among
the calls for silence following to where some exposed hand or
brightness of skin waited them, survivor or casualty.

Is the wallpaper whispering, or is it something else?