Adious from the North wind

I come every winter from the ice lain

Glacier in the north of Drukyul

Alone, among barren meadows and ragged falls

I discreetly watched the rills rise and laugh

As it traverse impassable mountains

And serene vales,

I breathed on shrubs and frozen pines

Shrouded in stainless snowflakes,

Creamy and quiet.

I built icicles at waterfalls;

Drew lucid rainbows for the gods

Even on sunny mornings

 I whistled to the mountain children

Clad in woolen raiment

Woven last summer

I crawled under beams and eaves

Of the gallant Gasa Dzong

Perched majestic on a slope.

I prostated at the Drugyel dzong

Listening to the ceremonial echoes

And the ancient battle cries.

I listened to the Punatsangchu chatter

Of the summer coming

On its lonesome sojourn south

I played on the corridors

Of empty schools filled with dusts,

And children’s commotion long gone

I circumambulated a Khangzang  chorten

At the Chuzomsa crossroad

Enfolded amidst host of pray flags

I danced among the village girls

On a Losar’s day

To a traditional tune.

I sheltered by night amidst foliage

And fallow fields

To solace my sinews

I talk to a drunken man

At the Phuentsholing gate to tell

I shall return another time.