POEM



My   name is poem
I am decked with garland of language
My heart is   ambrodaried    with rhymed verse.

In the cup of  epicureanist  broker                    
I am reproached and raped.

In the cup of romantic poet
I become restless and unsteady.

In the cup of the poet,
Suffering from the pang of separation
I become walting tree.

But, when the protesting word
Dripping from the cup of revolutionary poet
And blow my heart
I feel proud, then
I become furious Durga Samunda
For   the bribery and corrupted persons.
 
 
About the author: Ajit Khataniar is a poet, lyricist, writer, social worker and director of ‘Angkia Bhaona’ – a kind of classical drama of Satriya culture of Assam. He is engaged in Satriya culture since 1991. He has been a member of a literary forum, namely, ‘Sahitya Parishad’ through which they organize creative activities including poetry writing and recitation, etc. ‘Jeevan Trishna’ is his published book of 27 songs.[Read More]
 

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