Your love, so cool, a piece of soul's token,
How you are lusty and your sculptured snows,
How hearts you soothe with height, God knows,
For eons before, the best he had chosen.
Your height varies though worth, same stays,
With your maple woods shielding forge thickets,
When sun's deserted blue sky gives you mates,
And your beauty never gauged in brief days.
You cry with tears that lures the species,
Your beauty shall bring, on the wane, futile futility,
With frost lurking you when reaches maturity,
And your glittering tracts with luster, not lies.
Your beauty so ancient yet in histories no mention,
Your snow-laden forehead's likely the best creation.
Like you, Sir, I am also a great lover of nature. The description of snow-capped lofty mountains is enchanting. Thanks.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Exquisite composing. All lines are attractive. Many thanks dear Saheb.