The heart has its home,
The only country it needs.
It may have traveled far
But it finds its way back.
It may have suffered Fate,
Or earned lofty honors,
But is as poor as when it left,
And now bends its knees:
Only you, my Dearest,
Are the memory I keep;
On your shoulder I lay my head,
After everything is finished.
Here, Love, you live inside
My breast. Sailing all oceans,
I head for nowhere else,
You are my north, my east.
After sailing all oceans,
You are the only shore I seek.

 

 

Marne Kilates

6 April 2014

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