My country, I feel you far away,
like a dream that will not stay.
All the nights that burned in you
remain within my thoughts, too.
Old houses, with doors closed tight,
weep along the roads in quiet night.
And your wide plains, so still today,
lie in silence, forgotten, they say.
I long for you, yet longing pains,
I find no words to voice these strains.
Homeland, you’re like a mother dear,
left alone along the path, austere.
Nov 6, 2025
Nov 6, 2025 at 5:08 AM UTC
My country, I feel you far away,
like a dream that will not stay.
All the nights that burned in you
remain within my thoughts, too.
Old houses, with doors closed tight,
weep along the roads in quiet night.
And your wide plains, so still today,
lie in silence, forgotten, they say.
I long for you, yet longing pains,
I find no words to voice these strains.
Homeland, you’re like a mother dear,
left alone along the path, austere.
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