Strolling in the dell,
One April's shiny day,
I came across a maiden;
Solely dressed in gray.

Piled high above her head;
Her luscious hairs sheen
Glistening as a jewel
In the valley green.

Holding a twig up to
Her frilly blouse fine.
Standing by silently
An old tall pine.

Bedecking her face, pink
Those dainty eyes, pure
At which I looked & looked again
And wished to see them more.

I moved to her at quickening pace
And as I drew nigh
Back she moved, bit confused,
Down the cliff high.

O' Listen! dear maid, please
In sheer haste I said
My words dispersed in the wind
She didn't bent her head.

I stayed there in pensive mood
Frustrated and depressed.
Scowling the ugly fate, I thought
How much I was unblessed.

Many a hills did I climb
And went down the slope
I thought of her while moon descend
Just to darn the hope.

Never letting it be the past;
I was little obstinate
I wished to snatch her from the blue
And to down the fate.

With every moon's descent, it got
Harder to guard the will
And never yearned defeat came
Near and nearer still

Her memories are still fresh;
As a rose in June,
Exquisite as daffodils,
Real beauty of those hills.