Small Homeland (mikri Patrida)

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.