All departures are a start,
but I don’t want to go into the new.
I’ve grown accustomed to this view
and leaving it will break my heart.
How does one part with memories
of childhood days? They seem to follow me
in streets. The chestnut trees
were always there, I watched them grow.
All starts are a departure,
familiar sights will fade in time,
I’m looking forward to a new adventure
but I don’t want to lose this view.