I will not shed my precious tears,
For the leaf that ditched me,
Which fell on the ground and flew with the wind,
To the distant land of bulging beauty.
I will not laugh with the blue cloud,
Smilingly besmirch my godliness,
Through its fragrant chilly gust,
and, navigate
To hide in the star-studded ambience.
I will not cry in the starry night,
Searching constellation in midnight,
Or swayed by the brightness of pole star,
Visible in the moonlit night and,
Vanishes in daylight.
I will not smile with dry lips,
Though the winter is spreading its grip,
Fight for rhetoric in my speech,
The alphabets struggling to come out,
With the fear of whip.
I will not blink my eyes,
To sip the beauty of flourishing prairie,
Where I will lose my path,
Amidst the green scenery,
Running to catch the butterflies,
Near the streams and valley.
I will only be with my lionised pastured,
Which will nurture me,
Walk with me,
Holding my delicate fingers,
With care and compassion,
During Solar eclipse to Lunar eclipse.