MORNING OF EARLY WINTER

And also, this morning when i woke,

The pleasant colours were turn'd into black n white.

The Apples, still on the trees, shrouded by white.

Still soldered to their branches by frozen snow.

The Paddy grains, in the white feilds,

Hanging to their spikelets,, are wrapped with scarves.

It sems like I've seen through the window,

The near future of middle winter laid over Autumn.

The ending season of harvesting, splash the crops and fruits,

Along the whinny outcry across the watery lands.

It will not stay over long, like a nightmare,

But the early winter snow turned Parterre into grave.

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The Defiler.

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Aadil Ghulam Bhat

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