‘The melancholy of an Ithaca’ – (I melancholia mias Ithakis)

Why Ithacas are always away…
Does every time we leave, we look back to their soil,
because every time we are there wither in us?
Could they be always near?
Next to us?
In front of us?
In us?
Why every time we seek a new one?
Because ours is not enough for us?
Could they be after us?

The Ithacas hurt…