Description
No matter what we say: One’s house, village, or country will, without a doubt, remain a part of their many immeasurable values. As a tree is linked to its roots, a human being is inseparable to its origins. When one loses ties to his home, his identity dies just like a tree cut from its roots.
Nostalgia is the most common manifestation of “disorientation”. In all languages and all cultures, we hear the cries of the exiles: “I want to go home”. Either mansion or shack… Home is home.
Translation of Haitian Creole text:
Home
I have learned that my life is a pilgrimage
Whatever you hear,
These words are truth,
Yes, indeed:
“There’s no place like home”
I miss my homeland.
I miss my home.
I speak, I sing,
In everything I say,
Weather I am angry or happy,
Home is in my heart.
I speak, I sing,
I sleep, I dream,
No matter what I do,
My home is in my heart.
My home is in my soul.
My homeland is my mother,
My father, my family.
My homeland is my music,
My history, my deeper soul.
My homeland is my passion, my whole life.
I miss my home,
I miss my country,
I miss my land…
Click Here for complete text and English translation
Click Here Traducción al Español
Recordings
Lakay – recording :
Miami Children’s Chorus.
Timothy A. Sharp, conductor.
Perusal Score
