Arpita The Green Impossible Of Alpine.
The green Impossible might not have been.
Had Arpita not been beside Alpine,
With her mystic profile,
I might have been a daily beguile,
And gathered the sediments of the faces gay,
Mattered it little to weigh and judge,
The rampant plays on Time’s bed,
Had by Arpita not I been remade.
Miracle may not happen in ten thousand years,
And miracle may happen in a moment,
As if a Tajmahal replaces quicksand’s tent.
Ah! The burden of my un-contented content,
Writhed and loitered with no avail,
Had I not had holy water from Arpita’s well.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem