But what is home? Nature is home, my only fatherland.
Is home a leafy, green and gleaming, golden forest?
Is home a calm meadow, full of fresh, soft cheese aroma?
Is home a mountainous wilderness, where red, yellow flowers grow among high grass?
There, a melodic stream runs coming from the sweet winter snow, which covers the hillside.
Yes, it is; they are. These places are home as well as many others that make us find ourselves.
