Oh! ! the sweet soundless engaging winter wind
and I like it, I like it.
It's expressive and free from all bondage which fade a poetic day.
Oh! sweet soundless engaging winter wind,
look I am sitting in my silent garden bench,
and I see those dried up leaves which were dank at the very beginning of the day.
But now I want to fill,
I want to write few lines adorning the white poetic page and it's called The Book of Love... '
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem