Tired traveler, your endless road Is a trace behind your back, in all. There is not before you any road, You beat it on the young virgin soil. You beat it on the young virgin ground, Draw a path after you in a strain. Only look back the one you’d spread out! You will step on it never again. In a sea, no paths can be found, Just a foam trace after a stern. Translated by Yevgeny Bonver, December, 2002