Green Pasture Poem by Hemendra Singh Deopa

Across the green pasture, I hear,
that tinkling sound,
that I hear coming from far.
With the rhythmic sound, it starts
Buzzing on my mind
a folklore and a beautiful song.
While turning up pages through pages
I go through the history.
Stories of a few old noble souls
Ah difficult were those days
But not in entirety I suppose.
Perchance, there were no luxuries like today.
But I am sure those did find a way for their indulgence too.
But that certainly not at the cost of nature.
For, what I see today certainly breaks my heart.
More then that of an old lover
as the fable goes by
Who dig the mountain to get to his love.
Ironically, we are digging mountains too stupidly and noticeably as an act of playing with nature.
Sometimes to find gold sometimes to make a way.
Although, I feel at peace
Listening to that imaginary tinkling sound
coming from across the green pasture I saw on my way.
I feel more at ease,
when I can imagine a better world and few more noble souls.
Not in the books but around.
Why can't we, at once
Live like the primitive way of lives.
To know another way of life too.
That I propose will turn to be a school of humanity and the alliance between the men and nature.
For, luxuries will vanish one day
But your glory as human shall remain.
As I only can attempt to voice many of those folks,
who love every single tree, every river stream, Mountains, deserts as they are, the oceans and the rain and the snow flakes in the best way they come and bring the gift of life for us.
As I look across pasture and a sensation goes up my spine probably reminds how beautiful it is yet,
how small part of the world that has remained.
Across the green pasture, I hear,
that tinkling sound,
that I hear coming from far.
With the rhythmic sound, it starts
Buzzing on my mind
a folklore and a beautiful song.