I crossed past the Western ghats
Yesterday over the curling mountain pass
Driving far too very fast
Seeing on the mist laden hill tops
The Autumn Reds blooming last
Leaves colouring the evergreens
Evening falls over the mountains tall
And the worlds of men seem forever small
Scattered over this ancient rocky wall
On every corner pass a truck stalled
To the roadways a simple thrall
Lost waiting in Pan’s evening hall
Voiceless upon this early ball
The rain begins to fall