(I apologize for the mistakes in the former version)

Wyspen

The heavy scent of Shallamese spice and incense
Candles left burning in your memory.

Following the tributaries and streams to the River of tears,
The Nymphs, Sirens, and Dryads collecting flowers.
I crossed the countryside on the Bard�s funeral song.
Over mountain, across fields of snow blossoms and edelweiss�
Through the dunes and the harsh winds of the desert.

The heavy scent of Shallamese spice and incense,
Candles left burning in your memory.

Seeking your face�I looked for it in the pattern of the tiles in
Shallam.
Wanting to know, I inquired in the market place.
Through tents and hidden in the fabrics
I only wished to hear your laughter.
Across the bazaar to the Basilica, I heard the
prayers of those longed to hear your songs.
I looked for your face. . .

The heavy scent of Shallamese spice and incense,
Candles left burning in your memory.

The veil of the moon covers my face.
The stillness has replaced your laughter.
I place a candle�heavy with the odor of saffron
upon the altar.
The bards mourning the loss of your voice.
The melody now still.
Your strings silent.

Seeking your face among the spices and incense -- I could not find you.


Penned by my hand on the 19th of Phaestian, in the year 384 AF.