Missing

Sitting here on this bench
Looking at the mountains far off
I miss my land.
The mountains look the same
Same with the sky
Still, there is is something missing.
Missing is the essence
The smell of spices
The scent of the rain
The cackle of people
The familiarity of language.

Missing is the feeling
That this is home
That this is my land
That this is where I belong.

[Written in October, 2007 at IRST, Trento, Italy]


As I wait
For the flight to take off
To take me home
I know
That I will miss
Alberto's Smile
Chiara's BOH
Cu's Andiamo
Komminist's I am God
Leonardo's Random Theory
Mirko's We Germans
Matteo's Shrug
Nauman's Dozing off
Surafel's Seven Generations.

I know
I will miss
The jokes, the mirth, the laughter
The internet fights
The tropos
The craziness
The randomness.

I know
I will miss
The land
The passion
The pasta
The pizza
The ciao's.

I know
I will miss
A lot of things
But most of all
I will miss
Being with you
My Friends.

[Written on 27th February, 2008 at the airport when leaving, Trento, Italy]

Trento,
You taught me
To be passionate
About life
About food
About beauty
About style
About language.
Grazie mille Trento.



[Written on 27th February, 2008 on the way back from, Trento, Italy]