It was already dark when I walked home through the streets of the suburb.
There was a pub where there was still light pouring out onto the boardwalk.
I had time and I was cold, so I stepped inside.
Men with brown eyes and black hair were sitting there
And the music coming out of the jukebox was strange and exotic.
When they saw me one of them got up and invited me.
Greek wine is like the blood of the earth,
Come, pour yourself a glass.
And when I get sad, then it is because
I always dream of home,
You've got to excuse me.
Greek wine and the songs known of old,
Pour another one
Because I feel the yearning for home again. In this city
I will forever be a stranger and alone.
And then they told me about green hills, the sea and the wind.
About old houses and young women who are on their own.
And about the child that has never seen its father.
They kept telling themselves, one day we'll go back
And the money saved up will be enough for a small fortune at home.
And soon nobody will think about it anymore, how it has been over here.
Greek wine is like the blood of the earth,
Come, pour yourself a glass.
And when I get sad, then it is because
I always dream of home,
You've got to excuse me.
Greek wine and the songs known of old,
Pour another one
Because I feel the yearning for home again. In this city
I will forever be a stranger and alone.
maluca
David Ephraim
magicmulder
Mon, 15/08/2016 - 10:48
Wakeboardtiger 
If you like my work you can buy me a coffee here:
https://ko-fi.com/maluca