Percy Brown
O! For the wind in the pine-wood trees
O! For the flowery, scented breeze
In far Gulmarg! In far Gulmarg!
O! For the wealth of flowers so blue
O! For the sound of the ring-dove’s coo,
O! For that earth’s soft covered breast
The turf my love’s foot-steps have pressed,
And all the thousand scents which rise
To subtly haunt our memories,
Scents which spring from the very grass
As o’er its velvet growth we pass
In far Gulmarg! In far Gulmarg!
O! For the babbling brook’s clear flow
Dancing from Killan’s heights below,
O! For the cold and gleaming snow
Which Apharwat doth proudly show,
And lights and shades which joyous play
On her grey-green slopes all through the day.
O! For the moonlight so serene
As, thwart the marg she casts her sheen,
O! For the rainbow tinted vale
Which dream-like fades to vision pale
In far Gulmarg! In far Gulmarg!
Their distant peaks great mountains rear
Pure, shadowy guardians of Kashmir.
And now upon a dreary plain
I wounded lie in aching pain
How far Gulmarg! How far Gulmarg!
To its true home-yonder I know
Instead of Heaven, -God let me go,
To far Gulmarg! To far Gulmarg!
(Percy Brown (1872–1955) was a renowned British scholar, artist, art critic, historian and archaeologist. He wrote extensively on Indian architecture and art. Memories of Gulmarg is from his anthology Chinar Leaves: Poems of Kashmir.)
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