BY AMULYA
BARUA
Century’s shadow is over-burdening,
–under its darkness
the weary road-beaten
frail feet or humanity
are trembling.
The milestones of their life are left uncovered,
the beautiful dreams are shattered,
–wearily they plod the track of
disease, death and decay.
Oh, where is life?
Where it is to be sought?
Shall you find it
in the dreamy dews of morn,
or in the rubious glitter of the evening sky,
or in the petals of flower
that smiles in the greenish couch?
Shall you symbolise it
with the dim burning of the melting candle,
or with the morning rising sun?
oh, no–
Life is more gloomy than death’s darkness.
Yet, there is life,
–a life that creates not but destroys
It is civilisation’s pride?*
* Rendered into English by the Author from original Assamese.