When I' awoke from the winter's sweet slumber: -
I' saw all the trees trembling in white garnament's.
Something! it was new to my tender eyes, Ooh! wonder
Wovened clean: divine ornaments!
Snow descends, the snow to arouse passion--
Extended, over vast brown and barren fields.
All you need is; fire fuel and dry fruits
If you are a settler of 'Drass or Siberia' and
Warm garnaments and a pair of long-boots
When I' tread a little into my lawn, I' saw Lily and--
Strawberry, lost into snow-land
And I' called Larry!
To aid me, My cykel, the snow had.
Stolen, under it's dark cavern, so damned!
She pulled, My hand with her mehndi-hand-
Soft-red, and so cooled, then we land.
And the Moon appear, so quite to her flight-
Over the tall tower's, sounded so-grand.
In white garnaments assembled in the heaven.
Ahh! all the nature was delightful white.
When I' gazed over, the blue ridge encarpments
The feeble sun; was under the clouds hung over.
Standing on toe, I' saw only white flakes, of dancing-snow
As well, few Eagles and their little son--
The heaven's hero! laughing so--
A state of tranqulity; scatter round Me
Winter sun, was lingering like an unfit person.
And moon was too, lacking her magic show.
Walking alone, in trackless field thank God!
I' did met a baboon like a School friend, who tend
And soon we conquerd the route in a dramatic-mood.
At the afternoon, we sate on a steep rock, to eat fruit and.
Then I' took my flute, and played in a poetic mood, and he soluted!
Ah, the young Eagle was still, withstanding
The snow over a white-Oak.
Overjoyed, and also sad, that all is being polluted.
As I' viewed back enchanted, he had no mood to landing.
Still, snow was descending with splendor to wood and field,
Creating new, woundrous divine paintings,
In My loietering journey I' saw a gallant old man
Walking on his wooden-heels with his cold lamb.
Towards his hut it's half roof was snow ridden,
One part was visible with the garden eels.
With a slow rhythm, he told that: 'he has no women'
My heart melt, and we both fixed his hut
Latter, I alone left away, in heavy snow, slow motion.
With image of his shelter, that was on dummy run.
Into an aprocoat field, far from 'Zogilla village'
With my return, I' saw the hoary birds seated,
Brooding in the snow, a smile returned to me,
Before the nature's magic my word's faded--
Speedily, a band of polar bears appeared to hunt ringed-seals,
Along me, some snow crane's and other birds sighted,
This sport, for an hour or more within time wheels.
Afterward, they fleed to wood way with their nervous tightened.
And I' took My way in my warm skin tight jeans,
And roamed up and down;
before, the hill, I climb,
Chewed some dried beans; in the wild scenes,
That rejuvenated me, and then
I' forward to hill as like an Antilope......
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem