From the pristine waters of valley lakes
To the highest reaches where the mountain takes
In the dark of night…
…under the setting sun
Lies a mystic land, surpassed by none
Hosting gardens edified in Mughal praise
And water homes under Moon’s doleful gaze
‘Cross winding roads…
…and wintry roofs
…and remnants from bygone ages too
Stands a rider here…
…a snow chief there
Invested with a purposeful air
Now tell me, Stranger, passing by
Why do heavenly things pay the heaviest price…
