The poem was written in mind and lost-
Like so many thousands of pages
Like whole archives and whole civilizations
It will be unknown-
Dying happens all the time – naturally-
And staying alive is a limited option only
We cannot save our own holy words for long.
These lines too
Will be buried one day
In the eternal land of silence.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem