Oh, to be a stranger in a strange city,
travelling with no destination,
at home inside myself
and looking, looking.
I don't know what I'd be looking for—
my eyes, my eyes,
the hills in the distance and white buildings
helping me find them, just like today.
A bay and a clear sky and a few palms,
people speaking some language I don't know,
but friendly, and a few I can talk to,
or maybe learning their language this time.
Oh, to be a stranger,
arriving for the first time
in the unknown
city of my own thoughts.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem