I am reading the Selected Poems of Ezra Pound as edited and chosen by TS Eliot.
Here are some lines I was reading at the time the photo was taken:
I am homesick after mine own kind,
Oh I know that there are folk about me, friendly faces,
But I am homesick after mine own kind.
I could say that this poem speaks to me as I have been in China for six years now. But there is one aspect of the poem that is absolutely not true for me. I don't know who my own kind are.