Nature’s austerities are apparent in autumn:
No dense desires (leaves) define the trees
Not a grain of green thoughts stirs them.

Forgoing the flair for
Fragrant ornaments (flowers), the twigs live
The dry conventions of Indian widow.

No water wish in rivers and rills rolls
Lakes lay bare their sandribs which
Children titillate with their larking,
Meadows, pastures catch jaundice.

Not a bit of beauty can
Nature boast to key up
Twitter bards, people praise.

Like the congregation of ascetics
Merged in meditation
The eye-cry-dry-trees are
Poised, pieced in pensive prayers
To preen on green go.

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