The Midnight's Snowfall

'O, blithe tress! O, blithe tress! So bright,

You hugged the snow at dreary night!

Bow down and kissed the earth;

Thy broken arms and tattered leaves mirth.

  Shivering hearts and paralysed bodies so cold!

  Thy fruits shed torn-wine and sold.

  Of shadows bleed, cry and die! 

  By their tears floating like iceberg lie.

Sunlight fades under the meadow of cloud;

The sun in deep-slumber and over with shroud.

 'O, cruel cloud! Sheds the rain or pass the sunlight.

But the snow falls at the dreary midnight.

  The midnight roars;as all trees groan.

  The kash-Peddlers collect woods with 

  their mighty saws and bones, 

  First they lull on hot-beds, made of gemstones.

The snow melts into water, sprays to their roots.

Sometimes their beauty with no fruits.

You snow! You! the water of the past and future,

But in present, you hell the life of the creature.

  Why you only fall in the vale?

  Some may say it is a tale.

  Now, we are with no shadows, 

  tress and light, 

  As you fall at the dreary 

  midnight!