It SCORE ASSAMESE POEMS
Total Page:16
File Type:pdf, Size:1020Kb
THREE it SCORE ASSAMESE POEMS Compiled and Translated D N Bezboruah 4 » V ^ ; i- : ' Three Score Assamese Poems Compiled and translatedby D. N. BEZBORUAH ...1. oH Iluw' ..oM .Da/^ NATIONAL BOOK TRUST. INDIA Bhaben Barua She Pursued me Even in my Sleep Memory of a Shipwreck Only the Sound of Stillness Words Suddenly Lost The Weight of Lead Where have they Gone? Hands in the Darkness Two Poems Harekrishna Deka Nirmalprabha Bordoloi Dawning Winds Posterity Ashes Moonlight Poignant The Soldier's Death Unvanquished Bireswar Barua Existence Lily's Afternoon Songs of Darkness Diary Early Dawn Hours Tarun Barua The One Who is to Arrive A Stream of the Ganga Flowed Birendra Kumar Bhattacharyya A Moment of Courage A Palace in Bukhara Anis-uz-Zaman Samarkhand Limits Keshab Mahanta Time My Fate Fragrance Hem Barua Niren Barua A Discovery My Existence Homen Borgohain Memory Note on the poets Dilip Barua Procession of Death Hari Barkakati After the Immersion of the Goddess On the Death of a O^nfidante On the Death of a Leader Question Hirendra Nath Dutta The Berlin Wall Three Score Assamese Poems / vii vi / Three Score Assamese Poems Bhaben Barua She Pursued me Even in my Sleep Memory of a Shipwreck Only the Sound of Stillness Words Suddenly Lost The Weight of Lead Where have they Gone? Hands in the Darkness Two Poems Harekrishna Deka Nirmalprabha Bordoloi Dawning Winds Posterity Ashes Moonlight Poignant The Soldier's Death Unvanquished Bireswar Barua Existence Lily's Afternoon Songs of Darkness Diaiy Early Dawn Hours Tarun Barua The One Who is to Arrive A Stream of the Ganga Flowed Birendra Kumar Bhattacharyya A Moment of Courage A Palace in Bukhara Anis-uz-Zaman Samarkhand Limits Keshab Mahanta Time My Fate Fragrance Hem Barua Niren Barua A Discovery My Existence Homen Borgohain Memory Note on thepoets Dilip Barua Procession of Death Hari Barkakati After the Immersion of the Goddess On the Death of a Confidante On the Death of a Leader Question Hirendra Nath Dutta The Berlin Wall Three Score Assamese Poems / vii vi / Three Score Assamese Poems Preface This is a slim anthology of my English translations of Assamese poetry written in the secondhalf of the twentieth century. 1 do not presume to make any claims that the anthologyis a representativecollection of Assamese poetry written in those fifty yeai's. In fact, considering the size of the anthology, it is inevitable that some poets have got left out. It is a collection of Assamese poetrythatI likedandpoetry that could be translated without very much being lost in the process of translation. I have also attempted to make it an anthologyof what I regard as good Assamese poetry of the period. The focus is thus more on poetry than on the poets. The anthologybegins with poemsof Navakanta Barua because hegave his contemporaries aswell asyounger poets a new language and a newidiom. He hasthus leftus agreat legacyof not only an enriched Assamese language but also of many excellent poets. I have dispensedwath a long prefacebecauseI feelthat readers should be left alone to read and enjoypoetryon their own insteadofbeingtoldin advanceabouttrends,influences and so on that may have worked on the poets. I have translated all the poems except one ("The Silf by Navakanta Barua). As a translator, my major concern has been whether I have succeeded in rendering all these beautiful poems competently enough in another language and vwth total fidelity to the original poems. Tliree Score Assamese Poems / ix I owe a debt of gratitude to the National Book Trust. India, for having agreed to publish this small anthology of translated Assamese poetry inan age when readers ofpoetry have dwindled in number and publishers of poetry have become evenmore scarce, I am also indebted to Shri Pradip Acharya and Shri Pankaj Thakur for a lot ofhelp. D. N. BEZBORUAH X/ ThreeScore Assamese Poems Navakanta Barua (1926-2002) The Silt Tlie palaash fires have now burnt out. The recent invasion of the saal and sotiymi woods By the April storms is past. Wlio keeps count of the dreams shed? The banks of the Kalang, Kopili and Dijoo Ai"e strewn with ancestral bones! The wild lilygrows through Where laysilent mygrandmother's heart. What did the cloud say? - Give, O Give, Till thou art empty. Plant some roadside trees; Why, start a high school. Heave a sigh or two - the beloved traveller Is ever on the way. Let sweeping waters wash away the shells ofdead spiders. Let our silts make fertile the two banks of Kalang. In the furrows of our grandchild's fresh farm Three Score Assamese Poems /1 We shall awake. In our fossils will they find Weshall think of the stitching lateron. The amazing tale of one who remembers Only think. Tlie ti-ansmigrating past. Someone after us will measure anew In the gutters that wash the dream-blind lane Saying thatour measurements were all wrong. We live in. Fresh measurements theywill take. Is their future. Wlien will someone stitch the garment tofit Man? (Translatedby the poet himself.) The Eternal Pulse Measurements How old is the night, Alakananda, It is evening now. How old is the night? Let's go to the tailor's toget measured. Pale gas lamps give no hmt, Measurement of neck chest hands and arms The hands of the clock Measurement of the thumb. Are still. We shall give measurement of the palm and the heart, Tlie entrails, the spleen and the liver, How late is it? Give count of hormones and love. Could it bemidnight? Let us give measurements of life Are you asleep, Alakananda. Of this and that and various things. Nestled in the crook ofyour arm? Onlygive the measurements. The fragrance of darkness We shall think of the stitching later on. Soars like incense For the time being let's just give measurements. And is stilled We can only give measurements; In the curves ofyour flesh. We can only take reckonings. We shall record that suicides have The night wind is mute, Swelled considerably. The bare sky clothed in dreams. We shall give count of the letters in aspeech Darkness shines with the stars Give count of the Christians in Arabia. On Maniktala's ditch. Just give measurements. 2 / Three Score Assamese Poems Tliree Score Assamese Poems / 3 We shall awake. In our fossils will they find Weshall think of the stitching lateron. The amazing tale of one who remembers Only think. Tlie ti-ansmigrating past. Someone after us will measure anew In the gutters that wash the dream-blind lane Saying thatour measurements were all wrong. We live in. Fresh measurements theywill take. Is their future. Wlien will someone stitch the garment tofit Man? (Translatedby the poet himself.) The Eternal Pulse Measurements How old is the night, Alakananda, It is evening now. How old is the night? Let's go to the tailor's toget measured. Pale gas lamps give no hmt, Measurement of neck chest hands and arms The hands of the clock Measurement of the thumb. Are still. We shall give measurement of the palm and the heart, Tlie entrails, the spleen and the liver, How late is it? Give count of hormones and love. Could it bemidnight? Let us give measurements of life Are you asleep, Alakananda. Of this and that and various things. Nestled in the crook ofyour arm? Onlygive the measurements. The fragrance of darkness We shall think of the stitching later on. Soars like incense For the time being let's just give measurements. And is stilled We can only give measurements; In the curves ofyour flesh. We can only take reckonings. We shall record that suicides have The night wind is mute, Swelled considerably. The bare sky clothed in dreams. We shall give count of the letters in aspeech Darkness shines with the stars Give count of the Christians in Arabia. On Maniktala's ditch. Just give measurements. 2 / Three Score Assamese Poems Tliree Score Assamese Poems / 3 Alakananda. song of my evening. Tlie night shimmers You are perhaps asleep. And the heart quivers The countless glittering petals On Maniktala's ditch. Of the flower that is the slgr Remind me of the Upanishads... The moon-kissed breeze, The waves, the stars and dreams sing A lullaby for death. Judas The dew of sleep quivers On your eyelids. Night shines replete Murder my death with the weapon ofyour kisses. With dreams Why do this to life On Maniktala's ditch. That has its frontiers on the present? Wliat is the earthlyuse. Iaskyou. What dreams are yours Ofstretching and abridging Alakananda? A few animate moments called life. Their fitftil cadences With the elasticity ofbread and love-making. Spiral in the town's wakeful moonlight. Wine and fame? It's awake, yes, Thenight isawake and so am I. In your kisses I have not felt a dearth of love; The sky and the moon What inexorable orbiting Keep watch, Draws in your love into you Restless as Kunti's despair. Enfolding all planets, stars? Thefated house of wax. What concentrated emptiness Is it already in flames? Where the whirlpool endsl The sleepless candle What's the harm if the flames quivering around you Be of hell? Pulses with life. Eleven more pages of Das Kapital Beyond the bounds of space and time All flames are multidirectional. And I am done. Alakananda. are you still asleep? Three Score Assamese Poems / 5 4 / Three Score Assamese Poems Alakananda. song of my evening. Tlie night shimmers You are perhaps asleep. And the heart quivers The countless glittering petals On Maniktala's ditch. Of the flower that is the slgr Remind me of the Upanishads..