Home, some say,
is more than walls and a roof.
It is a place where familiar things:
an inviting chair, a downy pillow,
a photograph, a lover,
even a memory,
are always in one place,
transcending the passage of time,
never disappointing,
always there
when everything else
seems transient
and untrustworthy.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem