BALLAD OF NIGHT
Original Assamese: Gayatri Phukan
The dark moon is perched
On the thorn of cactus
The longings turned into stone
The picture that I had been painting
Lay hanging
Tattered
Dear god
Can you not
Etch a beautiful dream
Once more
In my eyes
I would fall asleep
As I wake up
I would see
The fragrant jasmine
In the bloom
At the entrance of my abode
And I would pray
For his well being
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem