Come, my love,

It was time to leave.

Take my hand and press it hard

that we go to places where nothing is everything

and happiness is born in the simplest things.

Let's travel together in our solitude,

 together towards the greatest adventure,

to travel the roads of the Nevada desert,

the Latin neighborhoods of Paris,

the sidewalks of Tokyo at dawn.

As far as you always dreamed,

as far as I never imagined it would come.

To get lost without turning back,

to meet people who like us were left homeless,

to grow traveling

and understand how small we are in this world.

Let's go to the airport right now,

let's take a bus as soon as possible,

or raise your thumbs on the avenue looking for the sky.

In the crossing things will look prettier,

like that moon that we will see navigating the Bruges canals.

The moon will be the same, but my eyes will be in love,

because that's how you have me, stupid but happy.

We will arrive to the landscapes that only in watercolors we have painted,

those to whom even photographs do not do justice.

And we will laugh high with the Italians.

And we'll talk low with the English.

And we will share tragedies with all the peoples who have also suffered.

Without noticing we will have spent the years.

Years of idyll in exile.

Then we will hear the call to return.

Maybe we'll go back, who knows, to the land we came from.

If I do, I'll discover what I already know,

the reason why I could leave without crying:

That you are my true homeland and our love my nationality.

That's why I do not have to give explanations to leave.