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.