Sunday, November 29, 2009
I love old books; I love their scents,
of huge, old castles with strong, stone walls
and dusty shelves filled with relics
of knights and warriors.
I love old books; I love their pages,
brown with age; stiff and fragile,
falling apart as the castles crumble,
and turn to dust.
Well, I guess it's time to post something new, here. Not that this is exactly new. It was written, some years ago, by an eleven-year-old girl. The inspiration for posting it here isn't new, either. I was surfing the web a few weeks ago, and I came across a video of a CF in which Yong Joon-ssi was smelling the pages of a book. (One of my favorite scents in the world is the smell of old acid paper books. Smells just like dried leaves in autumn. Try it yourself, and see.) Any way, that image in the CF reminded me of this poem, so I decided to post it here for everyone to read and, I hope, enjoy.