Wars are fought even with silence
It's a different affliction to be a warrior in this war
Warriors here appear to be
Black holes in space about to disappear unnoticed
Where it's hard to feel the force of potent waves
The war continues
Goes on and on
Only the warrior understands
In the spreading outer-space
Restless lights can't be offered
The power to emerge
Till the day they dispossess themselves.
(Translated from Original Assamese by Krishna Dulal Barua)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem