Small Homeland (Mikri Patrida)

Haris Alexiou

I didn't make long journeys, my years had roots, were trees which my heart dressed in leaves and let them blossom in stone. I didn't make long journeys. The people I loved were forests, my friends were moons and islands, that my heart thirsted for. You are my longest journey You are the night, the day-dream, my small homeland, my body, my beginning, you are my land, my breath and air I didn't make long journeys, my heart travelled to dreams, to wet sensations to breathe the mystic world, and this is enough for me.

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