Slowly my roots have entered into this land
It’s here that I have been raised
On this land I met you
Yesterday we talked about it
Do you remember?
Today I am looking for a street
A face that I know
A name that I love
God!
They are all gone
By foot, on wheels, upon birds’ wings
A hundred feet under
Destination? Far from here…
My city is a pile of debris…
My bare roots are longing for anchoring memories…
Leave or stay?
From now on, my feet are at the mercy of four seasons…
My city, my love
Forever in my heart
Deep rooted in my soul, I will see the shape of your face
The strength of your arms
And this last embrace…
Find the French version of this poem in the book : “Journal d’Etrangers”, 2021
