Trap
Translated by: Bibekananda Choudhury
Surpassing everything
Travelling towards the trap
Stitching the bait in the fishing_hook
In the water_trap
The world in meditation keeps moving From this wave to that
Thousands of fish Of dreams Enrapturing
An endless journey of meditation Of the species of citizen
Voice of the dewdrops Drops down
Through the holes of the Numbed trap
An Ethereal
Path
Translated
by: Bibekananda Choudhury
The skeleton lying on the sandbar Prays a sky
Cloud covered From ages unknown
The interlocutor Reads out the story of the skeleton
Today the sun enters into the skeleton
where songs of millions of people are written
And builds a jail himself
There it Gives away gives away
The way to a path and moves Far away far away
My deceased mother weeps Inside my skeleton
The sobbing of a skeleton alive
A fish will be the interlocutor
The colour of sunshine lay hidden in the molehill
Song of
insects
Translated
by: Bibekananda Choudhury
The cackling of birds get Immersed in the wooded obsession
The insects nibble away the life
Am moving after a will o
the-wisp
Following a serpentine path And holding redolence of the sun
in my fist, We get lost in a fern field
The leaves are falling one by one It appears that the roots
have forsaken the old fertile soil
The rustle of dry leaves Wafts from the deserted garden
There is continuous fighting inside and outside The staff in
scorched by the fire
O Destiny Since when did you nibble away the moonlight of
the moon On whose heart those moonlight holes up Who perishes when in whose breathe
It is a story of
countless insects Whose veins carry
spirited voice
It just nibbles away relentlessly The pages of the epics The the current of the river The cackling of children
Thief
Translated
by Gayatri Devi Borthakur.
The mind of a thief is in
every single iota
To awoke napping the cadaver of a dead village
A thief arises eras
by era
Also to flog
Thief is a human being
A human being is a thief
At the scorched edge of half-burned conscious and unconscious veins
There prime protection
To spend blink fewer nights
Enormous sleep and
breathless nights
Sketched in the name
of a thief
No hunger No thrust
Only eager nights to have the desired dream of a thief
Too is the
illusions of a thief
Scraping the heart of a stone
Darkness spreads embracing an infinite figure
Without food
In starvation
Enormous children
And women too
In streets
In the camps of the refugees
In the houses of the starved
All the attractive advertisements
Of the aristocrats are
In the name of a thief
Took the orchids
The bracelets
Took away Ornaments
Took away Vehicles
Took away Clothes
Took away Condoms
Took away
Took away
Bit by bit
In the public zones
In the Crossroads
In every place
Is the descriptive
description of a thief
Leaving the afternoons after the talks of a thief
Enormous afternoons passed away rotating the same
But to have the eyes
of thieves
The Mass is
pathetically tensed today
Morning walk is
Nothing but
a practice
of running
Topic is pathetic
Please do write a poem for a
thief
To assemble the words in the
heart
At first, have to read secretly
the pens of others
And also to tell the
poet about the story of the rotten apple of his own fake experience
Keeping in mind the history
and geography of a thief
Will the crowd shout horribly
Thief thief thief
As soon as you give attention
Here and there
Thinking of his
own
The thief will pick up your thought
And will shout
Thief thief thief
For those
who haven't a Yard
Translated by Gayatri Devi Borthakur
Those who haven't a yard
Also haven't a seedling of Jasmine
Nor they have the
large bundles of paddy sheafs
Nor the stars
If there is no yard
There must not be a pedal
Nor the two women gossiping
While picking up lice of one another
Where the grannies
will sprinkle the sweetness of their stories
No imagination
No dreams
If there is no yard
How the Sparrows will come
Where the dove and the mynah will coo
The lines of the ants
The worms carrying raindrops in their bodies
Will they
If there is no yard
The lasses staring the long entrance of the houses
Where will rest
The mass is losing
many things, gradually
The wetlands
The backyards full of nuts
The lemon trees
The shrubs of bitter
flowers
The trees of sour fruits
The backyards full of plums and pineapples and many more
The villages
The looms
The marriage-pandals
Having no Yards
Must be a symbol of modernity..
An Art of Noni Borpujari
Translated by Gayatri Devi Borthakur
Sinking in the blood of grief from centuries
Silently an art is sprinkling eyes
Aloofly passionate eyes
On that very night
An undestroyable raga emerged alive
Blood out of eyes
Blood out of the nose
Blood out of lips
In each and every vein of the heart
Is the whistle of blood
Pin drop silence
From an uncrowded rail
An art of Noni gets off
In the voice of tip-tap moist is the weeping of Radha
And laments every now
and then
Noni is in the deep blue of the art..
Poetry
Translated by Gayatri Devi Borthakur
As you keep unveiling the meanings
The pain will be increased
Pronounced words are the speakers
Readers are the cruel
beings
In the seventh dimension of a light-year of the Universe
The sailor is on the way to the distant horizon
Making its meaning
A leech from one
grass to another
Absorbing blood from the vaginal of a pig
Guesses the myths
Spies are in the air
In water
Inland
A poet sprinkles life in the knowledge
Transformed from one
spy to another
Every element is in the game of dice that is full of tricks
The sky, the air, the moon, the Sun and the stars
Cloudy land is the result
I remember nothing said to me
When I came back
everybody was far away from the fire
Busy in conversation
It is true that
everybody warmed up in solidarity
Coming back from the
water
Water and fire purifies everything
Fire and water - the perfect couple, made for each other
After knowing all these
Putting the fruit in the mouth
Enormous procession
came one after another
With endless hopes
Endless illusions
Who waits to listen to the last word
A soldier or a lover
Everyone who removes
starvation with your flesh
In the battlefield
Tremble's hearts with the experiences of crossing the hells
In the weeping of dreams and nightmares
Are the pathetic tells of
all the suffered from the Universe
Who will reform such
lameness
Who will translate the meaning of the Morning Sunshine
Stored in the beak of a couple of mynahs
A tell waiting for another tell...
He completed his post-graduation and LLB from Guwahati University. Poet Goswami though belonged to a very
the lower-middle-class family was rich in poetry from his early childhood. His first poem was published when he was in nine standards. Since then he is dedicating his life to this form of literature. His poems published continuously in the esteemed and leading magazines and newspapers of Assam proves his mastery in Poetry. He also writes short stories and critic columns. He is also related to various literature organisations working for 'Satriya‘ culture. ' For the ones without a courtyard' was his first collection of poetry which was published in the year 2012. This book was translated into English by Bibekananda Choudhury, the esteemed Scholar.
Poet Goswami edited research journals ‘Lokosanskrity“ of folklore and also edited journals based on poetry, literature and socio-political aspects from his early days of Youth. Recently poet Goswami was able to include a major piece of work to his list i.e.' Noni Borpujari', a collection of biographical sketch and critical analysis 0f works of artist Noni Borpuzari, the prominent artist, painter, printmaker, sculptor and socio-political activist of Assam, India. This edited book, published in the last of this year, is drawing the attention of the intellectuals.
4 Comments
All the poetries are tasty. Thanks for giving a way to read
ReplyDeleteThank you for your valuable comment.
DeleteGood job
ReplyDeleteThank you Neelabh Da!
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