I have promised to break the arrow, dear...
I shall have to climb the huge
red-eyed mountain in the night
crossing it I shall have to reach
the nest of the golden eagle in
the rocky valley
A blue zigzag piece of cloth
extends to the horizon-
on it there are seven vermillion-red
chiseled peaks in which
blue stars hum
Ah!
at what barely visible distance
the evening wind’s whistle is heard?
what glittering beckon
with their flute-like magical notes?
Dear...
tether your white mare
whose whiteness is like that of the dripping snow
at stark red noon
In the veins and vessels of my heart
in the cold expanse of loneliness
sits hatching in every moment
a golden eagle
***
[Translated from Assamese by Prof. Prodip Khataniar]
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem