On this high paint of the wooded mount, The plunge of the precipice is a sheer Drop of delightful feat in rocky grace, The murmurous flow of Kali below, In generative joy of pounding thud, Rises to hydro power to light up lives Beside the river across the road, Two ranges hazed in sleeping majesty, Wait for the sun's warm touch to waken Them to a glow of transparent charm - The running rift between them, Sunders them in rising relief against The sky as they soar in stoic Strength to their pinnacled trance.