Misty fog and snow covered hills
In groups they live and loves each other
In steep gradient mountain they climbs
Runs through the granite rocks
The nature gave them wonderful dress
Covered with a beautiful woolen cloth
The great nature woven somewhere
Without missing a tiny thread
The wind and mist told each other
The snow that felt so sorry to them
The gracing grass felt so shy
The sharpened tooth of Nilgiri Tahrs
Does its job the pruning of grass
Where their work is always good
The species threatened themselves
For a survival in periods of journey
The mountain goats, Nilgiri Tahrs we call
The beautiful species are to be survived
This world of nature they must survive
In the long journey of hope we can make.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem