I will not stop

Many will leave,
writing poetry one day 
But I..
poetry will leave me
like all great dreams, 
at the gate of the cemetery

I am not in a hurry
I count the seeds of (chamomile) before throwing them
for this year is not good 
since..
the viruses' evolution,
has become a foregone conclusion
laboratory mice are exhausted,
very much..

Painful..
to scream inwardly
keeping your seeds dry until another time,
and another failure..

I do not wait..
anything from anyone
on the brink of destruction
restoration is a risk with inevitable results
for the seasons are disguised this year in winter attire,
and the morals of fools.

I will not stop..
the delirium 
in the darkness of the grave merciful beings
will leave of me only the good deeds,
and restoration is inevitable