What     I    price
as    precious   are ………..
The   morning   dewdrops  on  grass 
(precious   than  pearls)  
The   smile  on   a    pavement   beggar's  face,                       
 while  dropping   a   coin   into  his   bowl.
The   sweat  of    a   ploughman, 
in   twilight    returning  home, 
after   a   day's  toil.
The  smell  of   fresh   pages   of                                                        
 morning    newspaper.                                                         
The   uncleared   snow  clogging   December  morning   streets.
The  prayers  of   ascetic  in  harmony  with  his  athmaa.
The   still  midnight   frozen  silence.
        
Rainy   evenings.                                                              
Christmas    puddings.
Hidden   peacock   feathers  in  school   textbooks.
Diaries  of   my  youth.                
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
 
                     
                
nice poem but some words are of no use need a little improvment