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Gamla Stan MAG
October 31, 2011
Three years from now, this city will crack and break
The roots that have held me down die
And in the sun, like snake's skin,
My memories will run dry.
They told me to open my eyes wide,
To soak and breathe in the air of the Baltic.
Walking through the alleys, hand to the side,
Their voices echoed with a final
resounding click.
In the end, I'll set myself in stone
At the heart of the city, in the middle of
the trees,
Where, without anyone, I am never alone.
© Olivia N., Ho Chi Minh
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