The curse of night over
like a rock that breathes again
and feels the surge of sensation old as life
stretching her cramped limbs and cowered curves
to fill the void that is not the consciousness
with rich splendour of softest form
dawn springs to life over the animated peaks
now crowned with glory all their own
in bluish distance deep and rich
replete with passion and with bubbling life
forcing a recognition of her charms
as she parades through cup-like valleys
that receive her like red, sparkling wine.

Padma Prasad Devkota

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/transformation-39/