Day by day, the same two hands reach,
Grabbing my spine for another great read.
Attempting toe comprehend the words inside,
Telling the magnificent story that I behold.
These same two hands place me back
one the dust covered shelf with the others.
They have completed my work, and now
I wait for two different hands to pick me up.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem