inside that lonely train
a man finds consolation in his black dog
but soon
life will be over as the train reaches
its destination too
death, oblivion, annihilation
on a global destruction
that even to his dog
a man cannot hold on to an intimacy
sooner, not later, everything ends
no dog, no man, no cockroach shall be spared
no virus, no germ, except perhaps
the truth, the word
not even this poem, this poet
or its reader too, because
it shall be.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem