It is remarkable how many writers, great writers, have broken away from their mother tongue in the last century. This seems to have been the century of the exiled. A good number of them were expatriated due to the wars, but there were several who did it free from external stimulus. From this, the more or less natural decision to break away. Curious: it is unlikely that the pleasure or, perhaps, the fascination of writing in a foreign language lasts more than two or three paragraphs; the very arduous work that one has to do in front of the dictionary soon becomes apparent. But still, they went on, perhaps with a strength of will that deserves double the admiration. And what about the poets? They certainly escaped purgatory… And the trend, it seems, has not gone away with the century, with the difference that now they all seem to choose the same option. What to conclude?