{The wind} Rustled, rustled the lofty leaf of my tree, There gone one with hard out of three. Rustled, rustled that skinny one out of two, There left for one not hard to go. Blew, blew off those tiny and dirty dust, There gone squashy soil left only yellow crust. Blew, blew the minuscule mineral of fine earth, Now left only yellow crust and stony path. Flattered, flattered there those silky streamer of dharma, There gone a bit of dharma of Brahma. To shield and to enlighten the sentient being, Indeed a factual source of sentient beings wellbeing. Whispered, whispered there the calm and mighty wind, You brought feelings of dread to our mind. You brought an aroma of far bloomed flower, You brought us the feel of cool shower. Monmoti Subba BA-Dzo Media ‘I’