Everything will pass even the blue of the sky and the blue of the sea will pass.
The sun will one day go out and everything I knew, felt, will disperse, as the wind does with the sand.
I will become like dry grass that little by little becomes dust.
What will not happen is the essence of things and that fundamental knowledge which is not a name, not a thing, not an idea, not a person but something else that cannot be measured or contained and that can’t even be interpreted.
But that something will make that even if everything pass, it will also be reborn again.