I wonder why I want so much to live
In the Time I no longer will be here-
I consider it strange
The thought of keeping everything I am and have been alive
When dying is inside life
Like forgetting in every instant's passing-
All of us will be forgotten
Are already forgotten by ourselves
As we live-
There is worse for each of us
Death at the end of Life-
But everyday is numerous dyings
The endless passing by of what we just have been and done.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem