Jan 28
O’ country of my blood,
country of my ancestors
I long for you
Your luscious green landscapes
and your highest mountains
Your beautiful waterfalls
and your fountains
The sound of the neighborhood kids
laughing in the streets,
I long for you
A time where we ran outdoors so excited
we forgot to put our shoes on,
sitting on the front porch buying watermelon from the fruit-cart man,
then sharing it with our friends,
I long for you
Wherever I go I belong to you, one day shall my ashes be scattered and soil with you.
country of my ancestors
I long for you
Your luscious green landscapes
and your highest mountains
Your beautiful waterfalls
and your fountains
The sound of the neighborhood kids
laughing in the streets,
I long for you
A time where we ran outdoors so excited
we forgot to put our shoes on,
sitting on the front porch buying watermelon from the fruit-cart man,
then sharing it with our friends,
I long for you
Wherever I go I belong to you, one day shall my ashes be scattered and soil with you.
Being displaced as a child and not being able to experience the life lived in my birthplace and homeland.. these are some of the memories I got to experience while my first and last short visit after moving away. 5 years apart.
Now 22 years since the visit.
And 27 years living here as an “outsider” - however I would still be considered as an “outsider” in my homeland too.
Now 22 years since the visit.
And 27 years living here as an “outsider” - however I would still be considered as an “outsider” in my homeland too.
