the saying stays and goes
like this: at the time when
i have known a lot of people,
it happens, as a matter of
consequence, that i conclude,
that i like my dog much better
now.
and there was one who said,
and you know him for sure,
"Hell is, other people"
and many dislike the outcast,
the introvert and the the one
who shies away from the crowd.
now, look, everyone is getting
to be like this one: alone in
the house, watching tv, and
feeling lucky that he is not
one of those under investigation,
infected, and unluckiest of all,
declared dead on arrival.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem