However far has your million fingers reached
Inside the well
It is all sand
However to your womb
That much wind closed blind alleys
Screams of huge ancient trees
Colourless still sky obscure face of mosses
In the Dead deaf tranquil pool
The castrated owl hoots
The singed frozen moment of
A bird crying through the flute made out of reef
Flying in a circular path over the rocky path
Golden dragon fly of thirst dazzling in water
The naked figure of an empty sheet of paper
Of this sand
Devoid of mystery
The white night of the other times
Quiet in the drying nails
# Translated from Assamese to English by: Bibekananda Chowdhury
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem