I've written a little poetry text in my native language. But I'm having difficulties with a translation. Here it is.
A blinking light, a trodden path.
The day is becoming the past.
Sadly, I'm unable to add a chord to the word.
It's a rarer sence, my friend, if You are alive.
The life is at the back, but You're still young.
I know different ways and not enough overpass.
It's hard to find a place and a route to choose.
So, how to see a fellow among counter passersby?
The humaness, wisdom same as soul and mind.
The consumerism and flying are a vicious circle.
The contemlation and creative work - it mean the master's pathway.
The doors will open, when you really find yourself.