I journeyed down a pathless path,not that I wished it, but fate willed it so,this is how life punished me.I roam the labyrinthine streetson foreign boulevards,I see strangers,I hear them speak, but do not understand,they are cold to me,I did not want this migrationand I still do not want it.The bird migrates, but returns to its nest,while I, with troubled soul and weary mind,with tear-filled eyes and full of longinglive in this desolate land.How hard it is, God only knows,life cannot be lived in this dark exile.I wet my bread with tears when I hear an Albanian song,the first bite catches in my throat,the second I cannot taste.I envy you, my brother,who lives upon your native soil,you have a nest to call your ownand never have to roam.