As the car glides down the smooth country road Lives of strangers outside the windshield May bring you existential depression.
You can wish you could become a fly
And fly away through the window And lose yourself somewhere among The undiscovered vastness of the world.
You can wish you could become raindrops, And jump on stranger's umbrellas And sleep on the aromatic green leaves Of silent trees.
This is the beauty of life: Among all this crowding wishes Life finds its way. We fill our wishes upon the silences Taken from the lives of strangers. The poet is a civil servant