City's vs countryside's living

From when I was born I was raised in a village. I grew up there, and lived there until the final day of my high school life ended. The continuation says going next logical step was to go to the university. Even though I saw myself as a kind of a rebel, I did so. Placed in the city, obviously, unfortunately.. (I don't know what you mean by this.) This is going to be about how I see the reality of one's life surrounded by nature within the big city compared to being surrounded by nature in its most fundamental sense.

This evening I walked slowly through the night. I walked slowly, looking up at the sky hanging its tiny, shiny lightbulbs above my head. Those little marks on the dark black sky were slightly created a slight shield of protection and relief for quite a few moments. The picture of the dark silhouetted landscape seemed everlasting, infinite, old and nostalgic. From then on I knew I was home. I realised that this may be inherently eternal forever on its own matter, yet to me as highly fleeting as soon as at the end of the weekend comes. A freedom alternated by pillars of noise and never-ending highways, of smoke and concrete beneath our every steps. I broke my foot to making a footprint into the earth, to dirt to remind myself of my existence because I had forgotten I'm no longer home. The long time so long there flies so fast.

It's robotic and well-illuminated, the everlasting open eyes against the everlasting darkness cries for the better greater attention. If this were a fight, seemingly the city would win a point out of an being interesting. The price filled with greed and the lost side filled with grace.

I shall remind the human beings around me to concentrate more on living than on surviving. I shall tell my own self to survive the living surrounded by mountains of pale destruction, to survive the city as the rows of deathly trees, depressed and sad. This is temporary, I say. The Earth doesn't need us. We are temporary. Its blue eyes and yellow curly hair warms its children into be alive life, to awakening them to life. Yet it's pointless, I say. It needs a home. A home in our hearts written underneath the pace of a precious life.

Home is nature. Nature is home.

This is a brave piece of writing! The biggest issue was trying to transfer the poetic ideas from Slovak to English. In some cases I could see you translated literally, which made the English sentence look awkward. I took a bit of artistic license and added to or rewrote the sentence, only so that it would make sense in English. Unfortunately, there were several times when I didn't understand what you wanted to express. All the best!

Town's vs countryside's living

Since i was born I've been raised in the village, I grew up there, I lived there until the day my high school life ended. The continuation was to go to university. Even though I find myself as kind of a rebel, I did so. Placed in the city, obviously, unfortunately.. This is going to be about how I see the reality of one's living surronded by the nature of the big city and surrounded by nature within the base meaning.

Today I walked into the night. I walked slowly looking up at the stars rising their shiny lightbulbs above my head. Those little marks on the dark black sky were slightly creating a shield of protection and relief for quite a moment. The picture of dark silhouetted landscape seemed everlasting, infinite, old, nostalgic. From then on i knew i was home. Realising that this may be forever on its own matter but for me as highly fleeting as soon as at the end of the weekend comes. Alternated by pillars of noise and never ending highways, smoke and concreate beneath our every steps. I broke my foot to make a footmark into the earth, to remember my existence because I forgot I'm no longer home. The time so long flee there so fast.
It's robotic, well-illuminated, the everlasting open eyes vs the everlasting darkness cries for the better attention. If this was a fight, seemingly the city would win a point of an interest. The place filled with greed and the lost side filled with grace.
I shall remind the human being around me to concentrate more on living than on surviving. I shall tell my own self to survive the living surrounded by mountains of pale descruction, the city as the lines of death appear depressed and sad. This is temporary I say. The earth doesn't need us. We are temporary. It's blue eyes, yellow curly hair warming it's children to be alive, to awake them to life. Yet it's pointless, I say. It needs home. Home in our hearts written underneath the pace of a precious life.

Home is nature. Nature is home.