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There will be a day
When the Modar flowers burn the sky
And then, the people
With sickles and hummers
Would alleviate
A destiny in the course.
These people know how to rebuild
On the wreckage of the old
To repeat:
These people also know
How to demolish a chateau
It is just sequence of time
And one day, that will happen
Modar flower would bloom
The ribcage of the burgess
Would turn into ashes.
(Original Assamese poem Translated by Pabitra Das.)
