Travel is like opening the notebook of memory.
Wherever we go,
the scents, the streets, the sounds
unfold forgotten pages.

In the noise of a foreign city,
the village of childhood is heard.
Walking on a new road,
the old footsteps return.

Memories lie hidden, folded like paper;
only travel unfolds them,
and in the end, a great map appears—
linking the past with the present.