You say that everybody died! You think that it was meant to be. Yes, but… so sudden? How sudden it was! They went off so suddenly as if there was a party not to be missed. What party…is there a party for the dead?
I think that when it comes for them to die or let’s say “to present themselves in front of their destiny”, it happens in cold places, ready to be demolished, grubby, cheaply and awfully decorated, abandoned by all even by the God. Places where the cold and the sense of being a stranger makes you want to come close to some other man, an other stranger like you. Time after time then, under the ground of huge lands with crosses and marble stones, the dead celebrate together -coupled or not- friendships lasting forever.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem