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While writing these few lines
and walking amidst the snows
i suddenly have all the yearnings
for the rains...
and walking amidst the snows
i suddenly have all the yearnings
for the rains...
Around me a pale sun
and stilled out trees
flakes pouring a pile
and stilled out trees
flakes pouring a pile
here and there around..
thats the winter country
living in, i realise how
living in, i realise how
i have forgotten my
own beloved rains...
own beloved rains...
and how in another world
they come bringing with them
joy and sound, green and peace,
playing with clouds and lightening in the sky..
playing with clouds and lightening in the sky..
none of that here...
in this snow country
no rains only flakes
no green only white...
Somebody once told me
that heaven is perhaps like this
he hadn't seen the rains
born in a winter country..
that heaven is perhaps like this
he hadn't seen the rains
born in a winter country..
and left me wondering
how heaven n bliss, never being there
yet differ in imageries we know...
and keep knowing and changing thus..
while writing these lines
walking through the snows
looking at the trees
walking through the snows
looking at the trees
stilled by incessant flakes
travelling and yearning
for green and beloved rains...
born in a rain country
walking now in a snow country..
dying ...who knows which country? :)
born in a rain country
walking now in a snow country..
dying ...who knows which country? :)
~:)