To a poet of India for his warmth which can never be outdated
'With warmth for your severe winter', you said.
And every snowflake from my landscape fled.
I felt the sun from half a world away
Touch my skin with your autograph that day.
Regret echoes back to you on the air.
Love and remembrance, Friend, we both must bear.
Although I knew the poem was no more,
Your solace healed my being to the core.
Stanzas have gone into that atmosphere
In which two songsmiths held each other dear.
Yet somewhere our cosmos is burning bright,
Like Oriental candles against night.
Copyright,2006, Sandra Fowler
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem