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Nirmal Prabha Bordoloi


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.

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


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


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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