Coffee isn't that bad if it stirs in us the sweet merciless poetry of the unsaid.
After all God is ignorant if he didn't read Nietzsche.
After all we all feel the tremors
and oceans of blood flow under smoking ruins.
After all a crazy woman can come back alive
from a lonely escape in the desert.
After all a manuscript thrown away made us come back
from thousands of private hells.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem