Bihu Songs

Rendered from the Assamese

BY Prof. BIRINCHI KUMAR BARUA, Gauhati

("Bihu-songs are connected with the Bihu festivals–the national festivals of Assam observed in the beginning of the autumn and the spring seasons."^* The following are translations from the original.)

The arrival of the Bahag-Bihu Festival

When shall we celebrate the Bihu-day,
Tell me, O dear, dear?
I gaze east and west
And count twelve days clear.
O dear is my muga¹ quilt
And dear is the shuttle,²

But dearer far is the Bahag-Bihu
With grace, gaiety indescribable.
Bihu is coming in gorgeous garments,
Nahar³ is decked with flowery garlands.
Rustic damsels are mad with its fragrance,
And stumble over the spinning wheel
In haste and love’s expectation.

Young Men’s Song

Cheerless Chot ⁴ has just departed,
Bahag has come with lustre and laughter,
Bhebeli creepers have blossomed,
But, ah, long years shall take
To end the praise of my beloved.
He calls her fair,
They call her fair,
But I call her dear sweet-heart,
The full-orbed moon of my hearth.
Beautifully shines the milky moon,
Brightly flicker the heavenly stars,
Gracefully appears from the cottage green
My maiden fair
In beauty beyond compare.
When I finger my bamboo pipe
And sing a Bihu song in glee,
Like a butterfly my fairy
Dances responsive to the melody.
A cluster of blue-bees in water shines,
Fragrant petals in flower smile,
My love in beauty, youth and prime
Brings to my cottage mirthful rhyme.
You are in me
And I am thine,
Two hearts by love entwined,
O, who is the divinity
That brings this inseparable unity?
Dear Dikhow⁵ I may forget,
Jingling Janjhi⁵ may not I see,
Let frustration and starvation
Be ever my company!
Ah, I cannot shun the thought
Of my maiden lovely.
The glorious sun is setting in the west,
Countless cranes fly through the air
The wild waves of thoughts are swollen in me,
A heart cordial is rare to find.

Young Maiden’s Song

O Lord, why dost thou create us?
O mother, why dost thou bring forth daught
Ah, what a curse to woman-kind
A husband is rare and difficult to find.
While at the harvest field
I got the tiding of my ‘herd-boy.’
O, were I a bird, I could fly to thee!
But alas, that bridgeless Dhanshree
Stands between you and me.
What flowers you give me, O dear.
Tell me what love you avow?
I scent, but cannot put them in the tress,
Ah, they are withering in my bosom’s vase.
How can I forget you, O love?
How can I forget you?
I wish, I forget thee
By tasting poison from the Misimi.^*

I take naga lemon in hills,
Hide salt in my tresses dark as night,
The memory of my darling dear
In my breast I bear
With grief and tear.
From my father, I depart,
For my mother, I weep no more;
Woe, if I were to lose my love,
I take poison and hasten to the grave.

* Assamese Literature (P. E. N. Publication) p.7

1 Muga –a kind of Assamese Silk; it is very popular with the Assamese women.

2 The knowledge of spinning and weaving is considered as an essential qualification of an Assemese marriageable girl. Even today, every Assamesse household possesses a loom and other spinning Implements.

3 Nahar–Sanskrit–Nagesvar

4 Chot –The month of Chaitra

5 Dikhow, Janjhi and Dhanshree (in stanza 13) are the three well-known rivers.

* Misimi–a hill-tribe of Assam. The Misimis generally come to the valley to sell their goods.