Poem 34, Emigration
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As the car drove down the highway
Packed full and complete to the wall
I listened to the cry of the lonely gull
I still remember that warm day in May.
We followed behind the moving van
My old home had plenty of memories
From the times when I was young and small
To the times I could put my hair up, feeling older and tall.
I pressed my forehead against the windowpane
And thought of all the fun and games
Of my old friends, I’ll miss them all
But we’ll meet again some day.
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This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem