Regaining consciousness in a trickle
Hands & feet tied and mouth gagged on a railroad track
The silent whole
Shirt & trousers daubed in dew
Whining crickets drone
A rural gloom studded with night-chilled stars
Can't shout as mouth is wool of spew
Ribs and shinbone smitten-not possible to move
Stiff stonechips bite at back
How beautiful is the world and peace everywhere allround calm
A pinhead light is rushing on the route piercing the one-eyed dark.

(Translation of 'Prayataksha' written originally in Bengali in 1986)