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I AM A STRANGER EVERYWHERE
and no place is strange to me
from Tetuan to Istanbul
I hear steps of Ladino
people who walked everywhere
with the smell of an orange tree from Granada
see houses with stones
that the builder put while dreaming
of Lucena
tracks of Jews
with smells inherited from generation
to generation, and
no place is strange to me.
I have no home
and everywhere is my home.