Carnival Poem by Pradip Saikia

The ugly wooden horses will neigh at dawn

The children in loin cloth
Those who have fallen asleep in hunger
And those who remained awake
Will shout shrilly, loudly

The anti-clockwise wheel will turn
Mixing up the heavens of darkness and light

Puffing at his beedi
The beggar will ponder upon
The mystery of the flying balloon

Who is this monk
That relinquished the Sangha

Rukmini the courtesan
Will emerge breathlessly
At the movement of the wheel

Will ask for a dime

I am also orbiting for an eon
Inhaling the smell of Musukunda

In merriment
In remorse
In the sonorous rain

Electricity passes through piercing the womb
It is me in my arms
Bow in my hand

Memory is the entity of future
Of the carnival
Shiva is the beggar

# Translated from Assamese to English by: Bibekananda Chowdhury