I don’t want a home
I don’t want a home,
These mountains are enough!
Which is the better, then walking on the shabby roads?
But world is not a heaven, not a paradise,
Just a little hell it goes…
Still stubbornly I live on these ways,
Don’t know why, perhaps I have a gipsy soul,
Or maybe looking for my own paradise,
Which at thins mountains god overexposed.
Life in strongly leads me to the rules,
Hates me because of being disobedient, and bad listener,
What can I do, I give my fate to my poems,
All in all I am, those written, and unwritten.
I don’t need a home, why should I want it?
Enough for me…the mazes of the universe,
And this little hell will be wearied by me
With my mountains, fogs and rhythms of the verse.