Description
ABOUT THE BOOK
An already distant origin
an always foreign destination
where I never belong.
But under the tree …
A place I recognize,
a time that has stopped
And his weeping that is my weeping too.
Willows are typical in the Tigre area where my mother grew up back in Argentina, a magical place I keep in my memories from my childhood. Making this book was my way to hold on to home.
