Home, Part II
I always thought home was a place…But is it truly?Isn’t it all the roads not taken?The ghosts of moments we never lived? At times, I see myself in a quiet villageWed to the farmer’s daughtersGrowing…
The Cry of the Coyuyos
The cry of the coyuyos piercesThe cloudless sky of Santiago del EsteroCarried by the wind through the palm fonds The heat – nearly tropicalAnd time here flows differently!Slow, stilled by the heatNourished by the warmth…
Deutschland, Deutschland
Deutschland, Deutschland, how has it come to this,That thoughts of your dense forests cast me into a deep nostalgia?As I push through the fog of the Czech Republic,Unstoppable, advancing into your leaf- and needle-clad woods,The…
