The Two Versions Poem by Showkat Ahmad Wani

She wept in ceaseless pain that autumn wrought,
O ruthless fall, why heap thy woe on me?
When trembling buds still bloom in winter's grasp,
And spring did chill my cheeks in shadowed woe,
Then bound my golden locks in chains of light,
Yet wove the songs of joy the morn bestowed.

He wrote in tears, this word to her—so mute,
Who never penned a line nor dared reply,
Or timid plea against my sinking boat,
My cry to earth—to guard her grace, her heart,
To love her hand in hand and arm in arm,
And tread the path from spring to winter's night.
(2004)