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Sameer Tanti
Go, Give Them The News
Go, give them the news
tell them the water is knee deep now
they have to give the boats alone
the graveyards are to be dug up tomorrow
that should tell them all
Go, get the news across
take a lamp with you as you go
all lamps may have burnt out there
no oil may be, for the wicks which stand
all these belong to when the evening deepens
Go, get the news across
don't you tell them though
that the men are all lost
that with the roads
the courtyards too is lost
don't tell them of the firing at Kokrajhar
or of the homes and fields mortgaged
Go, tell them the news
know his walk well before you confide
hear his voice
measure his shadow if you can
with these ten these ten fingers
Go, get the news across
inform the police before you leave
rehearse before the mirror
what all you would say
give your address before you leave
so that town-folk get to know of you
Is it true really?
could be false
may not be
then it's a fact
Yes, yes, it is
Go, give them the news
It's true
it could
that's right, it may not
Translated by Pradip Acharya
Call Me, Will
You, My Golden Bee
No, not for me, nor for anyone else
But the sighs are for a discarded, half-eaten fruit
Don’t you tell me about those birds that melt in the nothing
Be it the hills, solitude or a fare of emptiness
Come hum in my ears some day
And I will hum remembering the cowherd carried away by the floods
A horse shares the grief of a river that lost its way
Chewing in the noon and shedding tears the while
These stones know my wish is named sadness
Which way will the wind blow
Bearing me in the lunch in these terrible days
Towns cities and citizen’s plight
Makers the fire rage
I know well under whose roof
The night wails
I am a fistful of ash to fly through the portals of spring
To become the headrest of the frozen brooks
Call me, will you, my golden honey-bee
I want to hang to the picture like red and green hues
Whoever will bare an eternal impress on the heart
When none is willing to listen to the other
Go way, my clouds, to the other shore of evening
Drench these lips and the even-raging thirst of the bud
O wild flower, involve me in those roots
I will traipse through the wild as a fire fly
Taking these bullets is my heart I will return to moonlight
The stars will weep alone that day.
Translated by Pradip Acharya
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