she tells you
this is a sad news
something in you
is not functioning well
and it must be
removed
invasive, he has to think it over
for weeks
without telling anyone
he goes back to the past
pages of his life
he had lived well enough
and there is nothing
to be changed
he did not come back to the white lady
(how can be so sure of what life
is giving
and for her to simply
eradicate it?)
there is this sense of waiting
for nothing
except that feeling that
sooner
it must be approached
calmly
and gently like a fragile
egg that is handed
to your hand
and then suddenly break
it and end it
quickly
simply because you are too eager
to begin anew
on a clean slate you write your name
you age,
a new place now with someone
you can love
you always believe that there is always
a new beginning
for an old ending.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem