Hill is dry, if it's thundering so loud in winter,
Can it really pour some rain, the weird cloud, in winter?
Ice is falling and my near-dead body waits for help
I have golden memories and iced shroud in winter
Cold hearts cannot understand what is the worth of words
Why my icy feelings are feeling proud in winter?
Life's present as an 'x' in breath-taking Algebra
Summer waves are equations and cold's groud° in winter
When they flutter their feathers, I hear they sing of joys
Himalaya is adorned with the birds' croud°° in winter
My fingers have lost sensations, everything is cold
In Kashmir, no one can see the flowing bloud°°° in winter
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem