hometown
lying in the grass, deeply breathing in the fresh smell of the evening breeze,
i lay under the outpours of golden rays from the declining sun;
behind my back stands the childhood house, and somewhere inside, with its yellow-stripped white wallpaper, my cosy, old room;
the same tree i see outside the window, its branches covered with early buds, waiting for the warmth of spring to give them life in the same way the chillness of autumn makes its leaves fall;
it always fills me up with happy nostalgia to be back in my home town — here i was raised, and here i return to my secret garden
