Nuskilau nuo uolos.
Įkritau į jūrą
Dabar gludina mane
Jau beveik apvalus
A thought came wandering
I stopped it.
Made around a pearl –
Small castle for it to dwell.
7 years – Georgia, Armenia, Syria, Turkey, Lao, Karabagh, Adjaria, Lazistan, Kurdistan, Lao, Thailand, Cambodia, Romania, Bolivia, India, Argentina, Chile, Brazil, moving by bike, foot, hitchhiking, horses, learning languages and people
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The question remains, “Who is the tramp?” Who is the walking person seen from the vantage ground of these pages? He is necessarily a masked figure; he wears the disguise of one who has escaped, and also of one who is a conspirator. He is not the dilettante literary person gone tramping, nor the pauper vagabond who writes sonnets, though either of these rules may be part of his disguise. He is not merely something negligible or accidental or ornamental, he is something real and true, the product of his time, at once a phenomenon and a portent. He is the walking hermit, the world-forsaker, but he is above all things a rebel and a prophet, and he stands in very distinct relation to the life of his time. Stephen Graham “A Tramp’s Sketches” 1912
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