Blowing from the time of dreary noon,
Till the moon shines in its royal shoon,
Tirelessly whistling and whirring around,
With nobody born to keep it bound.
It does not begin, nor does end,
And has limitless energy to spend.
It travels with no concerns or care,
It is the jovial and fresh Earth's air.

The golden fields yearn to meet with it,
And by its splashes, it likes to be
hit.
The cattle sing the wondrous waiting song,
For they meet with it, after so long.
The liberating and wandering winds instil,
Motion and life in the water so still,
To make them flow in never-ending joy,
And end their shuness which makes them coy.

The winds often blow on our hood,
To give back to us a happy mood,
When we leave behind our worries and sorrows,
And forget the things making us morose.
We search everywhere for inner solace,
In our lives, that look like a rat race,
And that is when a cool breeze gives us a kiss,
To transfer us to a state of immense bliss.