Such a rich assemblage of hair on my two arms, The hide and seek of the moon, as though your face. What a concealed thrill. Your body is a flowing stream Where the waves rise and sink. I am Krishna. Why is my flute so quiet? I only sink in the waves of water Where there is a frantic melody. Who is Krishna and who is Radha The question is … [Read more...]
:: Assamese Poetry in Translations | Indian Literature | Poems from Assam, the North-East of India.
All the blossoms of the night Have flowered Noiselessly Crossing the river The moon accompanies me To the yellow mustard-seed-bed of your dreams… Indian Literature | Translator Profile | Pallavi Das is presently working as a research scholar at Assam University, Silchar, Assam. She is closely associated with many Assamese writers through her works of … [Read more...]
When you sing Leaning her face against my breast Overwhelmed she starts weeping Her distressing sobs Leave frightfully My heart empty I shut off my eyes, Drizzling down the leaking roof The rain to the earth descends A droplet I touch with my lips: Spring’s first shower! Now on a rainy midnight When you are singing a song again — Quite passionately she now … [Read more...]
All over my body rolls along the afternoon sun. First in my chest; And then in every atom I felt that gruesome pain. Of love, desolation or maybe of plain sarcasm. Drop by drop it dripped in my chest, And then in every atom; I felt, The golden tears of the afternoon. Indian Review | Translator Profile | Bistirna Barua is a Research Scholar, currently … [Read more...]
A moon's serpent slowly creeps upstream Thoughts become boats and shuttle between the banks On the nights of listening to tales You'd swelled up as Champavati 'I swear I haven't trodden upon anyone's shadow Without beholding you I haven't beheld the new moon's face I've emerged just after touching the brimming pitcher Look here how my hands stay wet––' I too … [Read more...]