Divine Arpita, glorious Nevedita!
Had I not been in love with you,
I used to play my sense,
And dreamed a dream of trance,
Of erosion and corruption of innocence.
Had I not been in love with you,
I flattered your youth to pollute,
With my blind eye, your book,
And turned every letter to gross appetite.
Had I not been in love with you,
I would have turned a servant,
Of you whims, and demanded yours,
For the island of swelled verbose.
Had I not been in love with you,
My daily poetry would have been prose,
And in bed and shade you faded,
I forgot to worship your rose.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem