A confluence of colour,
The contrast of light and shade,
A meeting of land and sky,
The occasional harmonies of monks and music,
The fusing of health and safety,
And the fellowship of friends in need.
All were encountered as we travelled on to Darjeeling.
..”Strange friend,” I said, “here is no cause to mourn.”
“None,” said that other, “save the undone years,
The hopelessness. Whatever hope is yours,
Was my life also..
From “Strange Meeting” by Wilfred Owen.