The title is the threshold of a book. And there are thresholds that seem to invite us to enter the work that they head and others that, on the contrary, rather dissuade us. As for the title of Maria Josep Escrivà's new book, I immediately felt that it was inviting me to get to know her verses. Because of the apparent contradiction that this phrase hides: can there be joy in oblivion? Perhaps yes: that of the lover who, finally, feels how the image of the beloved that has so mortified him is disintegrating. Or —and she wrote sophisticated lyrical material— that derived from the unconsciousness of someone who suffers from an illness that darkens his memory.