By the side of river Belmudri,
In the remotest loneliness of spring,
My adolescence had its privilege,
To share your lotus-bloomed wings.
In certain late after noon,
By the side of Tista glade,
When silence meditates for love,
I enjoyed the prerogative,
Of your unconditional faith,
And forgot time, death and birth.
I needed a nowhere timeless bed,
The abstract Unconscious in light and shade,
I did cover, wade and hover,
All that were possible,
And you sprang unseen like the Himalayan Tale
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem