BOOK LOVER.
Who are book lovers be seen
search light, for they become
Rare, a rare commodity found
Wit, men now, almost forgotten.
A time was, then, book lovers
found in plenty, reading books.
Now lovers, plenty without books,
They eye not on books but, on....
Books are ancient, the life blood
of master spirit embalmed and
Treasured for life beyond life,
Pointing eternity, readers blessed.
Now books in plenty but none, or few
look them, leave, purchase
Books last, although plenty
no money to have them.
True, they say is true
peak truth, they hate or dislike them
Hatred they have, loving forums
Hatred is loves perversion.
Yes, I for one, am mad after books
People label me mad,
fool, I love books
Books, my life, life indeed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem