By Navakanta Barua

At night in the rains do you remember your poet 
Arundhati
The dim light making oblivious 
Of the evening smell of your bun 
Do you remember
Arundhati

In the moonlight or gloom 
In love or sadness  cryptic poems
Between us lay the unseen barriers of broken dreams 
Do you remember
Arundhati

Do you remember
The pearls on the dub grass
In the cloud of hair 
The gliding moons of the slim fingers
(For a tide there was no sea) 
Even at the touch cold as ice
How soothing it was 
Arundhati

Arundhati
An instant nest for the bird that came flying 
Braving the storm across the skies 
After a host of dreams
In the crowded snatches of sleep 
That lone sleepless night
Do you remember Arundhati

At night in the rains do you remember
Arundhati

Translated by Nirendra Nath Thakuria

Click here to read the original Assamese poem.

Navakanta Barua (b.1926-d.2002) was a noted Assamese poet, novelist and translator.

Nirendra Nath Thakuria, retired Associate Professor of English, is a translator.

By Nirmalprabha Bordoloi

I saw him trotting away
In a late afternoon 
Along the path through the field.

With a head covering on
And a yoke bending 
Under bundles of rice stalks
Swaying to soft music.

They all followed suit
Golden sunshine of Aghon 
The thatch house neighborhood 
The earthen byelane through bamboo clusters
And the flock of singing birds.

He went on and on and passed out of sight. 
Who can tell
If he will return at all
In this life ?

Translated by Ananda Bormudoi

Click here to read the original Assamese poem.

Nirmalprabha Bordoloi (b.1933-d.2004) was an Indian poet, lyricist and folklorist of Assam.

By Hemanga Biswas

The boy didn’t come back

With only two kilograms of thirst inside
The empty bag riddled with bullets
Has been lying near the drain smeared with blood 
At noon.

From the queue for ration
The boy hasn’t returned till today.
The hungry mother with her naive eyes
Keeps on waiting—
He’ll come.

The other day a shower of rain
Washed the public road of blood stains.
In the cow-dung covered graveyard
On each and every thorn of the desolate Modar
Puddles of blood
Bloomed as flowers.
There spring has arrived :

Waves of red flags
Sounds of procession at the distance
She came out.

“He is coming?”

Translated by Uttam Duorah

Click here to read the original Assamese poem.

Hemanga Biswas (b.1912-d.1987) was an Indian poet, singer, composer, author and political activist.

Uttam Duorah, the translator, retired as the HoD, English, Women’s College, Tinsukia and is based in Tinsukia, Assam.

By Padmanath Gohain Barua

Look friend! Here comes a poet all alone,
Along the forest road lost in his thoughts. 
The tune of the silent lyre
Consoles him and agitates.
The tune echoes silently in the ears of each flower 
Pouring sweet melody to each heart.
Our poet the lover is slowly advancing 
We are all engrossed in the joy of the flowers as he advances. 
And there stands the old tree like one whose hair has matted
Sal, Ejar, Nahar, Kadam and all else
Will forget mistaken sorrows.
We all have planned a bright  picture
We will share thoughts, here comes the poet.

Translated by Ananda Bormudoi

Padmanath Gohain Barua (b.1871-d.1946) was a poet, novelist and playwright of Assam, India.

Click here for the original Assamese text.

Composed by Sri Sri Sankardev

O Sarangapani save me I am a dimwit
None I can see but Your feet
That can prevent hell, O Lord

Close on my heels are Death and Disease
How long will the body take to decease
I am a sinner, my end is getting near
Yet I’ve no thought of Your feet

Look, day by day is shriveling my body
By agonies and afflictions smitten
At the end Kamalapati is my haven
Me Sankara pray at Your feet

Click here to read the original Assamese poem.

Translated by Nirendra Nath Thakuria

Sri Sri Sankardev (1449-1568) was a 15-16^th Century Indian Saint-Scholar, social and religious reformer, poet, playwright and musician of Assam. Borgeet or Songs Celestial is a tradition of raga and tala based Assamese song developed by Sri Sri Sankardev and Sri Sri Madhavdev, another Indian Saint-Scholar, poet of Assam.

Nirendra Nath Thakuria, retired Associate Professor of English, is a translator.

By Bireswar Barua

The letters
Of momentary acquaintance
I’m counting on finger tips.
A doting utterance
Or
A cup of coffee placed on the hand
Are outside the dial of seismograph.

Consequence of one’s acts? Fate?
Darkness has run its hand
Over such accounts on the sheet of paper!
Who is capable of noting down dreams
On the branches and leaves
Where the squirrel wags its tail.
Nursery rhyme,
They’re reluctant to listen
As a proof of that they’ve kept you
In an insane asylum. Alas! Alas! You mad woman!
Helpless—aren’t you totally—
To push away with your hands
The clouds
Of the forenoon sky
They’ve created an artificial afternoon
For the canopy
Over the graveyard of your youth.

Translated by Uttam Duorah

Click here to read the original Assamese poem.

Bireswar Barua (b.1933-d.2010) was a modern Assamese poet, novelist, short story writer and critic.

Uttam Duorah, the translator, retired as the HoD, English, Women’s College, Tinsukia and is based in Tinsukia, Assam.

By Bhupen Hazarika

If life cries in dire needs
If dust blows on earth in pain
If despair is up to dashing hopes
Croon the song I sing

If you see a heron flying
All alone towards the sea
If a tiny moment makes the cosmos brood
Pore over the lyric penned by me

If you never get what you crave
Time and again the unsought if you get
If tears well up for what you crave
Laugh the laugh I laugh

I’ve seen lots of heartbreak  
So I pen lyrics laced with hope
If in darkness you land by mistake
If you pick up thorns as sewali petals
If your path is traced with blood
Mop it away with tunes I play

Translated by Nirendra Nath Thakuria

Click here to read the original Assamese poem.

Bhupen Hazarika (b.1926-d.2011) was an Indian singer, lyricist, musician, poet, author and filmmaker from Assam.

Nirendra Nath Thakuria, retired Associate Professor of English, is a translator.

By Mahim Bora

Fish -- golden silvery, blue violet
Lustre of luminous diamonds 
Fish in millions
Coloured-yearnings
Razor-slitting pace splitting the sea into halves
O' irresistible!

With the flying fins
Shrouding even the sea's wide expanse
Thwarting the waves that kiss the summits
O' eternal, coloured-yearning
Creation's first offspring 

Fish-- golden silvery, blue violet
Hued by birth, hued by colours
And by innumerable deaths :
In varied fish-traps, nets 
In the heart of the Ghiladhari*,
Yet immortal.
O' fish, O' eternal fish!

*Ghiladhari : a tributary of the Brahmaputra.

Click here to read the original Assamese poem.

Translated by Krishna Dulal Barua

Mahim Bora (b. 1924-2016) was a modern Assamese poet, short story writer and novelist.

Krishna Dulal Barua is a prominent translator and writer based in Nagaon, Assam. He received the Katha Award for translation in 2005.

By Durgeswar Sarma

A leaf looks familiar as you always see it
Draw it in a picture and it is exquisite. 
The day to day words sound familiar 
Intertwine them into a song and they are now exotic.

Translated by Ananda Bormudoi

Durgeswar Sarma (b.1882-d.1961) was an Assamese poet and playwright.

Click here to read original Assamese poem.

By Navakanta Barua

For you I go to pick flowers 
You're among flowers 
For you I go to sing songs 
You're among songs 

So I couldn't pick flowers 
So I couldn't sing songs 
I kept sitting 
Eyes downcast 
In mute shyness 
In search of you I entered a temple 
There I heard only the captive wails 
As I was looking out for you in my heart 
You're already out 

In the sky in the wind in the dust blowing

Translated by Nirendra Nath Thakuria

Click here to read the original Assamese poem

Navakanta Barua (b.1926-d.2002) was a noted Assamese poet, novelist and translator.

Nirendra Nath Thakuria, retired Associate Professor of English, is a translator.