The moon beyond the bounds wakens
at evening, to the beat of drums
squatting at the rim of my arms
comes traipsing along to the barn
from the meadows down winding furrows
a couple of waves from a yellowing sea
Heavy winds, heavier paths
heaving shocks, grandee’s bliss
In the silence where all roads run mad
the insects wail in a rhapsody
as I trade in awake of a slithering cobra
of moonless dark and its
glowworm eyes
but unbeknown to me
a disembodied shape begins to follow me
In the sky floats scutched-cotton clouds
the moon that hides softly or shines
she reached out to the mist-drenched
ends of my hair streaming loose
The shadowy form teases my shadow
and then surges forward leaving it gaping
and then, like comrades in arms
will fall back and step in tune
My shadow shier in the wind, goes numb in the cold
in the hiss and rustle of fallen leaves
my shadow feels the shiver that runs
from my soles to clamber up and seize my heart
Often in passion the snake twins round the shadow
it grants and snap, the snake bites and on its bow
bloods congeals like ice in pain
it goes dark blue, collapses and its shadow enters my wind-pipe
spreads in my blood stream
I faint and squat right in the middle of the field
and, at the trundling dance of a remote will-ó-the-wisp
the wails of ghost of corpses close in on me
Suddenly a caressing stray wind
shakes the sheaves in shocks on my shoulder
and the patchy white clusters of my mind
is surely dispelled
all clouds gone, from the sky streams
down on my path, moonlight
and the tears of the moon
***
(Translated from Assamese by Prof. Pradip Acharya)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Good poem. Rich in imagery and depth. Very well conceived. A perfect 10. Thanks for sharing..... Kindly read and rate my poem 'A busy street' on page 1.