THE SONG OF THE EMIGRANT
I have two homes,
One abroad,
One in Albania,
Yet I am homeless.
Dreams whisk me away,
To Albania alone.
Sleep escapes me here,
My body here dwells,
But my heart there thrives.
Here I toil,
There I dream,
Here I weep,
There I rejoice.
Life split in twain,
Half in worry,
Half in uncertainty.
Two homes I hold,
But for Albania,
A yearning so deep,
Love beyond compare...