By Marlupi (Utari Kusno), January 1943

The soul is crying sliced by sadness,
Dejected downcast overwhelmed by sorrow
The soul is weeping, sobbing in grief
The body is weak racked by suffering.

Like the sound of howling wind,
Thick clouds rolling churning,
Lightning rumbling cannon roaring,
All of nature seems to be grieving.

There are no friends to relieve the pain,
There is no sound of guests dropping in,
Alone the soul feels like it is drowning in flood water,
Is there no sound of people approaching?

The only sound heard is howling wind,
In the heavens above cold stretching;
Is there no one to extend a hand?
Yes, God whispering be patient.

Your own soul your friend of one heart,
God alone your only shelter,
So you believe
Always

That all your suffering
Is as nothing against the suffering of this world;
That all suffering slowly
Will vanish swept away by time.

Jassin, H. B.  Gema tanah air, prosa dan puisi 1942-1948 / H.B. Yassin  Dinas Penerbitan Balai Pustaka Djakarta  1959, p. 20, attributing first publication to the revolution-era nationalist bimonthly journal Pantja Raja I:14, 1 June 1946.