Against the unending oblivion of endless death
I wrote a few small stories
About relatives and friends who I have loved -
I wrote so that somewhere there would be some small record of them
And not simply nothing and no trace at all-
Yet my words or not,
Who will remember them as they truly were?
Who will remember the feeling of their presence?
When I go I will take them to my oblivion with me-
And we will with billions of others
(Unless God rescues us)
Lay down in silence
Forever.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem