Wooed by a book
With promising contents,
I had no plans to read.
But perusing the contents—
Chapter by chapter—
There only was intrigue.
I found me indulging every word
Of every phrase and line.
The book delivered; the read was great.
The work of the author was fine.
It left powerful impressions—
Recalling what I had read—
In so much, I could not sleep
For tossing it in my head.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem