Yellowed pages unturned for ages
Battered spines and bindings
Dust collecting
Knowledge rejecting
Shelf imprinted findings
Tales of woe unfit to know
Sorrow twixt the pages
A book now closed, I suppose
Hides inequities of the ages
Loves desire, lift us higher and make us one alas
Teach us swiftly things once forgotten
Of a curriculum now long past
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem