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A page torn from a book
flying in the wind
landed right in front of me
I picked it up casually.

There was a picture in it
a beautiful hamlet
situated in a green field
tiled roofs, tall towers..

I felt as if I was transported
in the picture by some spell
I could feel a soft breeze
passing by me, blowing my hair.

As I looked at white houses
with slaty, crimson roofs
grey hills in distant horizon
green, velvetty grass around me.

Meadow larks singing sweetly
I longed I had a home there
another gust of wind tore off
the page softly held by me.