Can I belong to these few narrow streets?

I ask myself can I belong for good
To any place like these few narrow streets,
Where pears are falling down to my foot,
And little village with the city meets.

Where I am walking slowly every day
Before the sunset or around noon.
And rarely going these few streets away
Where roses show their buds in early June.

From March until November flowers bloom
And birds are singing their sweetest song.
In April, cherries like before a groom
Are dressed in gowns so purely white and long.

Before September when the fall is near
The tons of grigs are chirping like the flutes,
Flies saying bye to summer for this year
And from the sidewalk eat the rotting fruits.

Will be I able for the rest of life
Belong to these few streets with no will
To set my sails to farther seas and strife
And always be here so relaxed and chill?

In fact I’m never sure of future plans
But in my heart these streets will always stay
As those waking up my inner sense,
Reminder of the bright and happy day.