Among the ways unconsiously we choose,
not that – similiar with a Paradise,
but the unknown one all crowded with Grass
and maybe’ll call it – “Paradise”.
Among the million sands, which can’t be kept inside
your arms, a few are only used by Fate
to ornament its very nice design
by tearing off our souls to the end.
Among the rain drops falling on your face,
among the coins you keep for being luсky
you see the way is long for long-long days
and covered all with golden Dust…
