I stand on the platform and wait every day
For a train that will arrive and have those on it
Who look with eyes clearer than mirrors.
Damn! Some reason the train's late again!
I stand here in the winter and in the summer I stand.
Like a school kid excitedly waiting for the break.
I wait on the platform for the day to come
When humans return to human.
And homeland - what is it?
A home? A person?
An apartment? One's job?
One's country? Or not?
How many questions,
I'm waiting for my answer,
I'm waiting for the answer on the platform.
And people upon coming back will spread their light.
Their broad backs are wider than rockets.
So tenderly they will say, looking into my eyes
That our Homeland is Planet Earth.
