poet friend

II. Sadness
But there is also the sadness of spring-time, which,
like falling snow, distracts us.
Both sorrow and joy throbbing and pulsing—a
countless crowd of feelings are stirred and
mingle together in this festival of perfume.
What if I have a friend far away on the shores of
the Hsiang! (Calgary/India) Clouds part us and hide us
from each other.
Upon a little wave I shed the tears of separation,
and—little wave going eastward (and Westward), take to
my friend my soul-felt love.
Oh! that I could grasp this golden light of
spring, keep it and horde it—a treasure-trove
of days for my fairest far-off friend.