The brisk wind, under a high sky, echoes with the mournful cries of apes,
The clear blue waters and white sands along the riverbanks witness birds swirling in flight.
Endless trees release their leaves with a melancholy rustle,
The boundless Narmada River rushes ceaselessly, a relentless torrent.
A sense of sorrow pervades the green scenery; wandering for countless miles as a perennial guest,
A lifetime marred by persistent illness, today, I stand alone on this lofty stage.
A life of hardship, often lamenting unfulfilled ambitions and aging body,
In weariness and desolation, a heart full of regrets, the wine cup temporarily set aside to alleviate the sorrow.India ,boats,Forest
