Complicated machines hovering around in people's
lives, not everyone knowing how to operate them.
Being used by the population to make certain
things possible for all of us.
Breaking down, being fixed, taking apart and being
reassembled time and again, proving that nothing
is forever, not even our lives.
Being pressed between pages of our own histories,
we live lives open to our possibilities and unfold
whenever we are able.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem