Let Love Rule Pure Kashmir Poem by Captain Cur

Ancient poet's tender verse
metered soft with pleasing rhyme
intoxicating as they nurse
budding grapes leaves on the vine.

Maturation of the fruit
caressed by sunlight's warm embrace
through their words and foreign song
I learn the temper of their race.

If I am inspired as they share
the godly music of their hymn
then their notes I deeply hear
the sounding flavor from within.

I am satisfied by the presence
and whisper of the flow
immaculate glories lifting up;
I sense their native soul.

Culture, distance, hollow time
grasps the features of the truth
and presses the vintage knowledge
from the ripeness of their fruit.

Simplicity and strength
pervade each nuanced note,
I bow before the pleasure
and praise with privileged throat.

Wars, barren deserts, victory;
Kashmir's fabled life,
she is richness warrior Queen
and in battle you must fight

with words your lethal weapons
and in these conquests I will share,
occupy your precious country
and let love rule pure Kashmir.