Wandh Rantas

I lament over my veer-cries; 

My dreams chilled last night!

I yank them as they may eerie, 

harvest my eyes with uproar sight.

I croon in 'forty winks' coziest melody,

My breath fume at frosty air.

I close the glass- window briskly;

My sliver tears fuse like hailstones.

The night seems to be iced- giant,

It is 'wandh Rantas' we call upon in Kashmir,

Who puffed to freeze every 'Tom and Harry',

Haunts awe night through frozen arms;

Breaks thirty years of elephant's record.

Now, collars the Jhelum and Dal lake; 

While the wular Lake vaults hallow- glass palace.

Toddlers make the miracle walks on the Dal Lake or water.

The spring hardly opens its hill's half heather;

This Wandh Rantas is the father of Chila- e Kalan.

Teaches the winter of Coldest principles.