Hitch hiking north
With no real direction
Just looking
For what he wants
What do we all want
Where do we go
Too stoned to care
Build a house away from everywhere
An erupting realization
Is visible through his ol’ eyes
The other side of the wall
Has been hidden from man-kind
Somes Bar sounds nice
Pack his bags to start
The rucksack revolution
Follow Gary and Jack Kerouac
Hitch hiking north
With no real direction
Just looking
For what he wants
Didn’t know him real well
Knew he wasn’t coming back
I shall see you later in life
On the side of some rail road tracks
We’ll talk of our void’s matter
Walk a thousand clouds
To seep right back
On the earth’s ground
Rolled up sleeves
Some tea and tipped hills
I’ll miss thee
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem