I wish I had a home city
Where I’d return in times of trouble
Where all my friends and family
would be waiting for me.
In my home city
People would be free.
They’d sleep on a bench or under a tree
if such was their envy.
Greet one another brotherly
when they feel a bit lonely.
There’s all sorts of streets
In my home city.
Cobbled, asleep, mysterious
Large, intense, delirious
Noisy in the daytime
at night silencious.
I go to my home city
breathe the air I first ever breathed,
And look at the first ever sky,
that first ever looked at me.
« Oh how you changed
in all these years ! »
he tells me sunnily.
You too have changed,
I say as I recall
my first cries on rainy Mondays.
I walk all day in my home city,
meet a cat, enjoy his company
watch rivers flowing
hear birds asking me
how it is like to have a home city.
My home city
Is a serious matter outside the country.
Strangers dream
of visiting its main alley
They wonder how their life would be
If they could breathe the air I first ever breathed,
and Look at the first ever sky
I first ever feared.
Last line = reference to the 1999 Belgrade bombings?