translation: Dibyajyoti Sarma

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Those seven people

The pine trees weep
The moon is lonely tonight
Silent tonight are the
Dry trunks of the tea plants
Scarlet blood sparkle
On green tea leaves tonight
The cloud descends
On this sleepless night
The soil is damp
With spilt blood tonight
I stand before the crowd of these dark men
Their eyes burning like ambers tonight
I seen my dead grandfather alone
Ambling along the sand by the river tonight
This dark, dark night, standing
Next to the graves of those seven people

We weep tonight
The pine trees weep

Blue bird, my tea garden

There was no one else.
None.
Unblemished a body like a lonely traveller.
Potent limejuice and
The wind among the leaves. The sound of
terror
Of a herd of wild elephants. A sleeping jackal
dreaming in his hole.
There was no one else.
None.
The barking of a black dog. Bare stump of a
pine tree.
People’s faces. Torn leaves of the gulmohar.
Cow piss on the yellowed grass.
There was no one else.
None.

On the hollow of the banyan tree a squirrel.
Soil
Soaked in rain. A dark woman and the burden
of firewood.
The green horizon and half a sky.
There was no one else.
None.
A fork filled with mud and grass. A herd fol-
lowing
The cowherd’s tune. Mango trees and mongoo-
se’s nest.
A lonely toddler. A group of dark men.
There was no one else.
None.
Only the tea garden. My
Garden. Blue bird
Of mine.

A poem against you all:

We are happy
You live on the other end of the world
Hence, you are happy
Devoid of intelligence, we live in our lanes

Like strays

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You do not hear the rising voices of our souls
Yet, we hear your ramblings
Listen to your glib talks, your oily voices
Like purring of cats
You pollute our blood with
Dark poison and vermillion
With the craft and cunning of scholarship
You stop our blood from turning red
You purchase our brains and in time
You throw them away in dustbins
You fear truth
You are a bunch of misanthropists
Hence, we strays hate you
You and your cold intelligence
You who fear the heart of a human
You who fear the truth
You live on the other end of the world
Hence, you are happy
Devoid of intelligence, we live in our lanes
Like strays, we are happy too

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Kamal Kumar Tanti is an Assamese poet
from Guwahati, India.