October

Rituranjan Gogoi

The mist doesn’t come like it used to before,

And, yet somewhere leaves fall;

The fireflies carouse in green paddy fields;

In my breath, you live like a fragrance

Of night jasmines blushing at evening,

Dews gather on grass tips

Blinking at the pale moon

Full of melancholy beauty,

And, I keep walking lost in memory

Of bright blue cornflowers in roadside meadows,

But;

Autumn keeps fading in this city

Like an already gone childhood,

Like the fire of first love!

Rituranjan Gogoi