Echoes of the defter lute
From far away
Recall
(As through
a telescope
Reversed)
That home
As land
Can often find
a place as soon
in mind
As hearths.
Just ever so
does music think
Each closer memory
Sung as time
And hands can hold
Whilst country lies
As far from love as
Freedom does.
Andrew Fincham
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/chopin-2/
