Bitter and sweet,

Zest, pith and pip,

The sun on my back,

The tang on my lips,

In wide blue horizons

I silently slip,

In old cobbled streets

Where kind strangers live,

Between the tall houses

White billowing sheets

Like billowing sails

And sand stroking feet,

I am more myself now,

These meandering days

That will live in the tales

Of long- gone holidays,

When I taste that fruit now;

The bitter and sweet,

I return once again

To those old cobbled streets.

Antonia Sara Zenkevitch