In Kashmir’s heart, where valleys sigh,
Lies Pampore’s earth, beneath the sky.
A cradle of gold, where flowers bloom,
Saffron flames pierce through morning’s gloom.
Each autumn dawn, in violet light,
A sea of crocus, bold and bright.
Tender blooms, in rows aligned,
Saffron’s treasure, by hands refined.
O, fields of Pampore, kissed by the cold,
You hold in your soil the purest gold.
Through centuries, as mountains stand,
With ancient hearts and weathered hands,
The people come, a quiet throng,
To pluck the threads they’ve known so long.
In each fine stigma, crimson-dyed,
A tale of Kashmir’s faithful pride.
From Saffron Cottage, heritage deep,
Where stories in each petal sleep.
With gentle fingers, fields are swept,
By those whose vows to saffron kept.
They cradle each bloom, soft and low,
As dawn’s first blush begins to glow.
O, Pampore fields, you glow, you gleam,
In every thread, a Kashmiri dream.
The petals fall, their dance is brief,
A fleeting love, a perfect grief.
For out of their hearts, a life is torn,
The essence of earth, by Pampore born.
Through windswept hills and skies serene,
The finest saffron, red and green,
A spice like fire, bold and rare,
Breathed by the soil, grown with care.
Each season brings this ancient chore,
Passed through Pampore’s veins once more.
From Saffron Cottage’s cradle springs,
The harvest was crowned for queens and kings.
O, saffron blooms, so bright, so small,
In you lies the beauty of them all.
And as each year the flowers sleep,
They promise gold, both rich and deep.
Through every dawn, through chill and rain,
The blooms of Pampore rise again.
Kashmir’s soul in fields is found,
Where flowers grace the hallowed ground.
Where crocus petals blend and bleed,
The land of saffron, root and seed.
A kingdom crafted from the soil,
The heart of Kashmir’s timeless toil.
In Pampore’s fields, each saffron thread
Burns brighter than the words unsaid.
O, golden fields beneath the sun,
In Pampore’s grasp, your race is won.
And so the tale of saffron weaves,
Through Pampore’s heart, the autumn leaves.
Where Saffron Cottage guards the lore,
Of fields that bloom forevermore.