The European
The European
New York, New York
The gates to land of milk and honey
At least that what it was for Europeans
Stepping on the Ellis island after dizzying voyage
Not knowing language, much less customs
Afraid to make mistake, paying the heavy price
The gates to land of milk and honey
At least that what it was for Europeans
Stepping on the Ellis island after dizzying voyage
Not knowing language, much less customs
Afraid to make mistake, paying the heavy price
Been there, tried too sans ship
Accumulated years, memories as deep as the two oceans
The accent, brought from the old Europe did not disappear
Becoming more pronounced when nervousness attacking
I merely matured as painting time brushed hues
Hanged in museum, each visitor inclined leave his views
French, Irish, Spaniards,Italians melted in my eyes
Absorbed by the blood, I mix of many cultures
Accumulated years, memories as deep as the two oceans
The accent, brought from the old Europe did not disappear
Becoming more pronounced when nervousness attacking
I merely matured as painting time brushed hues
Hanged in museum, each visitor inclined leave his views
French, Irish, Spaniards,Italians melted in my eyes
Absorbed by the blood, I mix of many cultures
The outsider for the locals plopped on their knees
Still outsider, carrying roots of Europe, I am walking
Dressed in the colorful perceptions, testing senses
Savoring desserts of images in one giant pastry shop, New York
Each bite, each piece telling the stories of the places
The flavors lingering on tongue, bringing ancient customs to the scene
Still outsider, carrying roots of Europe, I am walking
Dressed in the colorful perceptions, testing senses
Savoring desserts of images in one giant pastry shop, New York
Each bite, each piece telling the stories of the places
The flavors lingering on tongue, bringing ancient customs to the scene
by Margaret Gudkov
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