The Sun Disgraced By Hiren Bhattacharya (Translated From Assamese)

The Sun goes down, spending Sunshine,
The inevitable sword of the Kalpurush
Glow in the darkness of
The fear stricken night sky...

I am a poet, limited is my skill

The treacherous brass whistle
Of the spectre haunted sentry at
The street junction,
Upset my poetry's meaning...

Spending sunshine,
There goes down
The Golden Sun...