Verse Talks

By Ananda Bormudoi

I saw my first crop of poems 
Beating wings
I knew they would be able 
To fend for themselves.
I said: Try flying in the sky
And pressing on your wings return home.
Don’t say the way home is unknown
You’re born out of none but their wombs.
Poems of the poor people
Having grown up crawling in their yards
Having stood up wobbling in their porch
Your first babblings with their sorrows.
But then, the poems—it seems—don't find out the way 
To their hearts.
The way to the hearts of the poor,
People say, is only through their stomach
And what a fire in their stomach!!
The winged words of mine 
Get burnt down in the fire
Cannot find out ways and doors to the heart.

Translated by Uttam Duorah

Dr Ananda Bormudoi, Editor-in-Chief of Poetry without Fear, is a renowned critic and translator of Assam, India.

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

Click here for the original Assamese poem.

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