Poverty Original Gayatri Phukan, Translated By Rupa Phukan Saikia Poem by Gayatri Phukan

Nobody knows that
the winter's field suffers poverty
Grows restless at stubble
Numbness because of cold

A tune of flute moves
towards Radha's heart
And an empty field
enters unhuriedly into the red piece of auricle

Everyone sees poverty
But ignores it

Poverty is like wind
It is like water

In a huge tree
In a huge mountain
The wind of plains...
Poverty is everywhere..





Poverty is like wind
It is like water
In a huge tree
In a huge mountain
The wind of plains...
Poverty is everywhere..