And who avoids the road? Who knows the road completely?

The road is everywhere and has no end, no price.

Time saving can be great. And let us think a little!

O danger from the race! To drive is very nice.

 

The road′s pulse shows its birth, its great heart with strong beating;

in arteries and veins, hot blood that always flows;

kaleidoscope′s cascade with wonders that are fleeting;

and motion that is fast, with its designing laws.

 

The road is like a horse that gallops in the open,

as soon as the eye turns to its life-giving green.

And the road′s colors are rich, changing very often,

and drown out common sense in such an urgent ring.

 

The working traffic lights change colors, well in contrast.

There is now total stress. There are no mental sweets.

Are there conductors here? And who controls this contest?

Here, passions boil and rage at terrifying speeds.

 

The road is like a storm, when waves rage in the ocean.

No tremor and no fear! Destructive feelings? No!

I′m overtaking all on this highway in motion.

What′s overtaking me? It is our flying noise.

 

Away from portraits now! Priority to landscapes!

I breathe in nature here, the forests, and the steppes.

The seat is a king′s throne. Apartments are the latest.

The labyrinth of life waits for my further steps...

 

The road winds like a snake, and now seems to be dancing.

The steering wheel now twists the view around at once.

Adventures turn out well through proper multitasking,

with an expectant look. We have it and advance.

 

I dive into the fog above road signs and markings.

Their language tells me much, and I delve into it.

The road can set my path and is my place for parking

and driving, as my fate, which I don′t want to quit.

 

The road can seem to be a multi-volume treatise,

and can be just the goal, not merely the best means.

The principles I draw come from my deepest interests.

My soul now drives toward the road, on it, and wins.

 

O thirst for heaven here, foreseeing, and revision!

O image that I shape in happiness and dreams,

like sculptors, in my ways and any way in wishing!

O drive! Are you now gone? I love your chords and strings...