Above the restless blue
the ancient rock rises,
holding its crown of red roofs and narrow streets
against the long breath of the Mediterranean.

Here the city remembers its first footsteps -
stone walls, quiet squares,
the palace watching the horizon
as it has for centuries.

Visitors gather where the guards change,
their boots striking the same rhythm
that time has carried through generations.

Below, the harbors glitter with white sails,
but above them the old citadel remains -
a fragment of history
suspended between sea and sky.

And in the warm light of afternoon
The Rock stands still,
as if the whole Principality
had grown from this single stone.