O Dear Writer!
Our fearful trip is not done yet,
The ship has weathered every rack,
The prize we sought is not won yet,
The port is far, the bells I hear away, the people all exhausting,
Where on the deck our dear writer lies,
He slept beyond our country’s foam.
But he is known as valiant,
Me, coward who dies many times before dead.
‘And he is known
As the star is known to the Night;
As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust,
As the star that are starry in the time of our darkness,
To the end, it remains.’
This poem dedicated to the writer; LuduSeinWin(1940-2012) who passed away in 17-6-2012 in Rangoon, Burma. He was a writer and journalist. The people who admired him mourn for his death and remembered him as a valiant and heroic writer under this unkind world.