reviewing the past pages of life
you find out that most of the chapters are sad
the characters are actually confused
they are not certain what shall happen to them
at the conclusive page
you have subjected them to all doubts
in such a suspended animation
and they are attuned to your unpredictability
some of them do not expect much
they know your temperament
and the patterns are like the foldings
of a brain
like a labyrinth of one misinterpretation
to another
the characters understand you
all they ask is that you live and even if they
all die at the end
they implore thA Work Of Fictionat you lengthen this
novel of life
because even if they are just your
works of fiction
in truth
they all love you
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem