Beneath the calm bluish
Among the fragmented cloud pieces
A angry sun is hanging above,
Watching the broken and crushed village.
The farmer is lamenting alone
Sitting beside his over flooded paddy fields.
Thinking; many days has passed
Bordoisila still staying at her mother's home,
Why she is delaying to return for her husband home.
Pity farmer's restless plough and bulls awating
To play with the muds,
To repay a price to him
To fill up the damage caused by Bordoisila.
She had rolled down the betelnut tree to ground
Alas! He was thinking to sell the nuts
To buy new bell metal cup.
The foxtail orchid flower attached to this tree
Might lying somewhere unconcious,
He was thinking to gift it to his beloved.
But look the seasonal guest, white herons
Are grouping upon the tender bed of meteka* flowers,
They are praying for the longevity of this monsoon.
They will take theirs flight to native nests
When the cattle keeper will blow his flute,
To sway the evening breeze.
But who will stand before this poor farmer
Against merciless Bordoisila.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem