Upon my Shewali tree of my gateway
A bird is taking rest in its way.
There from its wing is
Springing out a stream
...
The lone field finds
One solitary tree!
Its leaves are but white feathers
Of cranes
...
Buddha In Exile
Upon my Shewali tree of my gateway
A bird is taking rest in its way.
There from its wing is
Springing out a stream
Of mourning!
Surrounding me
Gloom is there with its
Steely armour.
A misty dusky night
Is dismounting in utter graduation
Unto my antique ocean of sorrows!
Leaning over the wall of void
Warming my hands in fire of a rock
I have remained shaked in tremor.
The time with fading tint
Treads its way
Spreading all along the mist of solitude.
(Translated from Assamese by Dr Bipul Boruah)