The book is a plaque for the unread, dispositions
Rely on the place it occupies with streaming gases;
This object or item of luxury resigns for the items
Opening their front door, like a cat has entered.
The books are the cornerstone, they are founded
By the countries of origin, little do they reject when caused.
This is the sufficient reason to belong to a family
Of sensible propaganda, internal senses are again.
My heart is madly in hatred over your kind,
The reasons of this united hand is of the poles of sainthood
That means solid oak, or aspen of the highest quality.
Art and entertainment causes us to think over the certificates,
As the books of old and ancient causes are sold on the places.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem