Pains Of Eighteen Lines Poem by Shahabuddin Nagari

Opening my eyes I see shroud of fog covers
The green trees and wide open paddy fields,
Like water hyacinth on the river, winter mists float,
It covers the water and its colours. Condensed winter
Kisses the multicolour wings of butterfly.
Cool wind clings to the soil and
Spreads the foggy mat over the thatched roof.
Whereas stretching under the open sky
My pains do not get any covering sheet
And sweet-spoken words stand head high
Like concrete pillars. Soil moves under the feet,
But its strikingly enough that my pains stand
Erect like naked woman in the cross-road
Condensed mists dissolve and wash the feet of stone.