'Years
have passed
since that day
under the fig
tree. Our promises
were countess. Your eyes had
shone and my voice was thick. You
Stood on your toes and bit my nose,
sticking your tongue out in a challenge.
I'd accepted and pulled you so close that
it brought intoxicated clarity.
And then you were gone. Next morning a
letter waited on my table,
your words asking forgiveness.
Life has moved on, grey hair,
mortgage, two sons. But
Subhamita,
how could I
forget
You? '
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem