In the library's hush, where silence reigns supreme,
A book lay dreaming, lost in its own serene.
But the librarian, with a gentle reprimand,
Disturbed its peaceful slumber, with a firm command.
'You should not sleep here, ' she softly said,
As the book stirred awake, from its dreamy bed.
With a sigh, it closed its pages tight,
And bid farewell to the world of night.
In the quiet aisles, where whispers creep,
The book awoke from its tranquil sleep.
But in the library's embrace, it found its home,
Where even dreams must yield to the reader's tome.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem