Those who walk on what appears,
For them a lonely road...
May have chosen to do so.
Since the air is crisp.
And the mind is clear.
Choosing happiness over confusion,
Eliminates the need...
For one to fight for a place,
In polluted congestive traffic.
Where others have accepted beliefs,
This way of life is meant for them to live.
With a daily honking their way through,
A series of clogged arteries to die for.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem