What world of wonder are the books!
As one opens them and looks,
New ideas and people rise,
In our fancies and our eyes.
The rooms we sit in melts away,
And we find ourselves at play,
With someone who, before the end,
May become our chosen friend.
Or we sail along the page,
To some other land and age,
Here's our body in the chair
But our mind is over there.
Each book is a magic box,
Which with a touch a child unlocks,
In between their outside covers,
Books hold all things for their lovers.
How lovely to read,
The ideas to feed,
Things that we learned,
Learning that we used to it.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Books are the ocean of knowledge. As you said, each one is a magic box. Rgds Noor