And they are with us -
The people, which are not created now.
They fly in the heavens - as the fine white clouds.
But the look of a man - is rather selective,
He sees not the world around attentively.
A Man and his Soul - are the one entity,
Many a time we pass by this truth in vanity.
And the Way is also before us - clear...
But the Destiny is running its ball - in real.
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In russian:
http: //www.stihi.ru/2009/08/08/1195
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem