by Shamik Banerjee
Boon brought me here among your meadows green
O' Gulmarg Valley; little I have seen
In human world, a province so pristine—
Now such a realm is true before my eyes;
Acquaint me with your firs, the grainlands wide,
The span-new bloom, parterres, the riverside,
And if you should let me with them abide,
I'll be relieved from world's discordant cries.
Though one may claim: for true peace of the heart,
The Maker should be sought and not His art,
Then why did He create your placid height
Where eremites reside to feel His light?
For fleshly eyes would not see Him, He knew,
So kept for us, His godlike mark in you.
Shamik Banerjee is a poet from India.