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Nirmal Prabha Bordoloi
Abstractions
1
My beginnings in some remote millennium
this my journey work that spawned traditions
shrinks in an instant,
I creep into the darkness of the basket,
a lone mustard seed.
2
I came out holding hands with that sigh
and had looked at the house
my alien strain weighed down on it
and the house sagged.
Translated by Pradip Acharya
Poetry
Keep a patch of the forest in your bosom
to give you the shade to rest in
keep a bit of the sky in your bosom
where two birds for once can fly alone
Translated by Pradip Acharya
Sorrow
As the smell of the autumn field
Somehow reaches my nose
I get my father back.
In the aroma
Of an unfolded gamosa of a shop
I get my mother back.
Where shall I leave myself
for my children?
Oh where?
Translated by Niren Thakuria
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