Cool is the air, cool is the sea,
Everything seems splendid, like season of blee.
Being on the banks, how I wonder…
God has created our planet, with no scope of blunder.
Flows with a flow, our flowing river,
Deludes everyone in sunshine, the flow of the silver.
Sings on high notes, a group of lark,
Accompanied by blossom flowers, on branches of the bark.
Mountains touch the widest sky,
Like one’s imagination, with an ambition so high.
Unsteady is my state of mind, trying to flee,
Similar to the wave, moving in the sea.
Around me was everything like the air I breathe,
Now I can only see nature endeavoring death.
Responsible are we, for we spoiled the blend,
The world which is dooming, is by our dirty hand.
There is no other way except praying on our knee,
Oh dear nature! Please guide, as your children are we,
We will take in our hands, to spread the glory of nature,
Oh dear mother! Enlighten our way with your nomenclature.
-‘Panchi’ Panchal Hitesh