Knowing
would be like
dying
over and
over.
Seeing how it all will happen
before it happens
would be the final blight,
a leaden pall falling
on your joyful life.
So much better to live
in ignorance,
in hope that tomorrow
will be better
or at least the same
as today.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem