i do not exactly
worry about our humanity
how it ends, or how it
starts again,
we, all, perish anyway.
and for those who live,
and continue to be here,
do not worry too.
live and savor every moment.
be good, and be strong.
and if you cannot be good,
at least be cautious.
and if you cannot be strong,
do not show weakness.
we all, perish anyway.
and this we must respect,
not at the same time,
but we all perish anyway.
do we ever come back, either
as dogs, or turtles?
or birds, or caterpillars?
it will be exciting.
for the meantime we live,
as we have not perished yet.
did someone come back
from the dead? as a flower or
a bee?
nobody is telling,
and that i know pretty well
perfectly.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem