"our yards now"

In Kashmir’s vale the hens once sang, The cows were tied beside the door; The sheep would feed on grass once more, And bells across the meadows rang. But now the yard is strangely bare, A foreign dog sits by the gate; The children call his love so great, While parents sigh in cold despair. The orchards gave us fruit and shade, The streams would laugh with silver sound; But now the malls rise from the ground, And simple joys of life have fade. O valley proud, O land of snow, You fed the lamb, you kept the fire; Now sons forget the old desire, And boast the pets they buy and show. They call the dog a loyal friend, They dress the cat in silken thread; Yet mothers sleep on stranger’s bed, And fathers wait their bitter end. The roadside shakes with dogs that bark, But homes are cold, and hearts are weak; The valley once was rich and meek, Now walks in fashion’s foreign dark