I call the great traveller
Several times,
But he doesn't listen,
He continues to walk
In his own way
With real enthusiasm,
That's his actual strength,
He knows it very well,
The sun sets,
The weary birds return to their nests,
Slowly darkness pervades the entire atmosphere,
Still the famous wayfarer doesn't take rest,
He tirelessly proceeds
Towards the important destination,
As he firmly believes
That's the only way for him
To survive in this busy and competitive realm.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem