Tradition Poem by Prayag Saikia

Today I'll go to pay god my taxes
Taking along
A virile hunt.

Time will appear as the priest,
Receive the alluring lucre
And pronounce the remedy-
Satan, be sanctified!

I'll leave in his hands
A dove with a bleeding breast,
Wounded with these very hands of mine
And bring in exchange
The Buddha returning from his sojourn in the woods.

From a corner of my dwelling
I'll perceive
The smile on the Buddha's lips.

Today in the adobe of God
I'll be duped by a disciple
So shall be he by me tomorrow

(Translated by Krishna Dulal Baruah)