The Sewali blooms, fresh dews purify the flowers,
Grasses bathed, by those heavenly showers,
Drop by dropp fell, drenched my thatched roofs-
Chill wind blew, bits the walls and window pane,
I curled inside, my cotton blanket; I can hear the sound, from my warm bed,
For my lovely nocturnal dreams, there, I patiently wait.
Slow and steady, I had my journey continue,
From the day I was born, time swiftly flew,
'Twas a winter nocturnal, I had my first cry-
Had my first vision, when the moon was high,
Then a nocturnal dream, arose fresh in my mind,
Silent, fresh and natural, I tend to find.
My thatched hut, lonely in the cold, stand,
Dry and barren, chill wind, touched and went,
Hounds, curled their tails, alert, as they keeps,
On one high branch, there the hooting owl sleeps,
Hungry jackals, howling from the woods, hunting their prey,
I, in my cozy bed, deep in my nocturnal dreams i stay.
A cold hand came, in one moment pulled me away,
Opened my eyes, in a dark space, I thru and fro, did sway,
Looked for my thatched roof, found it nowhere,
Flapped my hands, like birds, flew, I find myself, in a winter fair,
A winter nocturnal dream. There my roof resides,
Between the woods, beneath the sky, in one corner, silently it hides..
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