Scented butterfly

Hiren Bhattacharya
Translated from Original Asomiya
By Dibyajyoti Sarma

1.

Hummings
Tremble the tree’s docile shade, rays on the leaves
In a moment
Falls on my heart
Speechless days
Who is not Christianised yet.

2.

Poems are usually free; memory’s its scented butterfly

3

While putting off the moist clothes
On the soggy garments, there’s the key of knowledge
The night of full moon
Slowly behind the mountain
The moon descends
Wails the jingle of my aphonic song