Artchil Daug


The First Books - Poem by Artchil Daug

Books on travels,
travelling books,
as the world unravels,
with its little nooks,
set the light free,
talk to me

in simple symbols,
travel me to your pages,
give me those angles,
I will cherish in ages,
eyes I do not possess,
color the world I confess;

Be for me a good witch,
infused, turn on the switch.

Listen to this poem:

Comments about The First Books by Artchil Daug

There is no comment submitted by members..



Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?



Poem Submitted: Tuesday, August 21, 2012

Poem Edited: Tuesday, August 21, 2012


[Hata Bildir]