Roads never feel lonely,
Since they sense,
The tires continually,
And the footsteps of the commoners.
Even long after the foxes,
Have gone to sleep,
The roads feel some confused snakes,
Trying to cross and reach the forest deep.
When there is none but the dead silence,
The friends the roads get are the tiny ants!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem