Autobiography of a Tale
I have been writing poems Spending money A poet does not have A desire to be rich While talking to the stars The other day the sky asked me About tales as large as the sky Have you ever heard Of tales Narrated by a poet I often hear now-a-days The thundering of the sky The fireflies read each evening Tales of smiles and happiness In frightening forests Mother said when we were young That the tales were live In the moral maxims The tales are defined Some people enrich literature spending money They enrich the first lessons of life Fill in blank pages History has recorded the freedom of tales Contemporary literature And modern authors Draw from folk tales When crisis strikes.
Clay Doll
It's easy To give life to a clay doll Mother did it when I was a child. These days are Gnawed by mice. Easy things become difficult Infested by flies. Those who gave life to clay dolls Have died and disappeared. Days die out And nights follow suit. Rumour hangs in the air That you cannot come out in the evening. Pieces of torn clothes That gave life to clay dolls Have vanished And neither can you get Thread to buy in bundles. Mother's time cannot make a retreat To give life to clay dolls. It is the same old earth But the sweet clay dolls Have lost lives for ever.
Translated by Ananda Bormudoi
Ranu Borua Gogoi is an Assamese poet based in Dulijan, Dibrugarh, Assam. She has two collections of poems to her credit.