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.

Add to playlist Size Tab Print Correct

Dicionário de pronúncia