During cold days in pristine place,
heavy rainy season.
The cold as ugly gore and shrinks tightly; assembled as disguise form.
The balmy air blows and each Moment of gladness!
In a 'Niche-Market, a hen lives more comprehensively.Her eyes gleam in the dark-moon light.Eggs are fragile as 'Mothe Hen' lies in coop, till they become brave.In twisted pain did they rise, Shepherd blessings on bosom Progeny.
Not even gears at her gabby feet.
Chickens rest on trees, sing a song: 'shall we live long? Now, they are vain of their faith, go away from their yard.As bright as they are, everyone feels odd.
Again sing a song under the shadow of the trees: ' shall we live long? but some cooky birds Steal their fruits.They fall into the ground away,
The leaves of plants change their colours into their yellow- pale.
his suddenly happens at the arrival of an Eaglet -furry.His hawk-eyed scared Them like the dance of mountain of volcanic eruption.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem