And most of them are never told
Even to ourselves-
Of the rest, most are forgotten-
Days and years go by without real remembrance
Thousands of stories are lost
Our lives are lost-
And yet when we live the stories
We live them-
How many stories today have I already forgotten,
As I try to write down one small part of one already almost gone?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem