The teacher
Turns them, reading
Learning the thing this
Book knows, eyes
Teaching the words to
Him for his mouth to teach
For us. Fingers pick up the ink
Typing them onto the fine paper
Of his skin. In him, knowledge
Is sheltered, kept in the thickly bound
Cover of his mind. His words
Are quoted, each sentence
punctuated. His
Tone direct.
He is read just as he reads
A book.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nice poem and nice depiction.... Excellent write...