THE PAPER IS PILED HIGH
The paper is piled high
The years went by putting the words on the paper
The symbols on the machine have multiplied
There are millions of symbols
What have I done with my life?
God Alone knows
In this world much effort has brought
Small result
I write these words
As if they are the very first
All those moments
All those years
Believing I was doing something.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem