The Iron Bell Poem by Pradip Saikia

The hapless iron bells
Are swinging again
At dawn

The golden face of the pierced sky
In the white rocks
Ever alert like the rabbits

The bank of the bridge that is not there
The red spot of ricocheting echo

Today it is suddenly ruthless
The still horizon in the eyes of the bird
That lost its abode to blazing flames

God will hang from the dry branch
At the ninth hour
At the end of the celebration
A group of galloping horses
That has lost its riders
Will return
A pale frog will at the door to hell

It is only two seconds till the ninth hour

The bells will collapse ringing
A pregnant spider will wriggle in the net
A sinless human
One God

The yellow pomegranate of dawn
Oh! The iron bells

# Translated from Assamese to English by: Bibekananda Chowdhury