I will wake up now, and, I will go to Pristina,
I will walk to Mother Teresa Boulevard from morning until late.
I will not count the macchiatos I will drink,
In the afternoon I will go out for a walk,
 And I will buy a piece of pie,
And a wick of seeds.
I will feel good
With myself and with the world,
Because peace falls from the sky of Pristina,
As spring rain falls on trees and flowers,
Transparent in the morning, reddish at noon,
And gold at midnight.


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