The valley is no more the same,
The trees and fields now stand in shame!
Their apparels shed devouring times,
Nature now yield to sorts of crime.
Festive life has now gone with gale
And now the sun seems sad and pale.
Feeble sun rays, through mist so thick!
In season stiff obscure and sick.
The rose is pale no perfume found!
Chirping of birds gone with the wind,
The winds in haste cut through the bones,
And rock the feeble skeletons worn.
The sun seems sad, turn round to flee
As far from mourning earth to lee,
And trees and grass in tears, now plead,
And wait for warmth but none pay heed!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem