Do Read Poem by Joseph S. Josephides

Do read, and the bud of the book will blossom,
the window will open widely to the spring.

If the sculpture and the metal of voice corrode,
if the painting and the brush stroke of smile fade,
the book will phosphoresce in deep darkness,
reveal the preserved spirit of the great persons.

Read and you’ll see the soul in the mirror of the past,
the nostos of Homer will become Ithaka’s home.
Read and see Antigone, born exclusively to love,
Andromache, orphan-widow, sun stuck with moon,
see Beatriche, a beauty in Dante's divine flame,
the ultimate light of Goethe, the Time of Einstein,
Moderation, the Good and the praise of Olympia.

Tonight, friends come in your room without invitation,
wise men, poets, scientists; they draw a path for you.
If all third persons abandon you, keep reading; here
comes the faithful companion, the eye of brain and soul,
it looks at you before you see it; for you it transforms
the ink into black wine, the book sheets into rose petals,
the papyrus of Aristotle into white wings so that you fly
and lead civilisation up there, in Alexandria the Extreme.
Do read to listen what others cannot: the blood flowing
in the paper's veins, vibrations of digits in Internet sites.

What’s your will? Read and I’ll resurrect in your fingers,
I'll converse with you, I’ll exist even in my absence.

I died this morning; last night I was happy to read...