May the stranger's evening be joyful with the warmth of the journey; oh morning of the homeland, you feel like exile to me.

This profound couplet speaks of the deep ache of displacement and belonging. The poet prays that the joy found in the ongoing journey—the struggle, the movement—is sweeter than the peace of a foreign land. But the second line reveals the core pain: even the glorious morning of one's homeland feels like a state of exile. It suggests that true belonging is lost, making the journey itself the only recognizable, if painful, reality.