Minggu Pertama Anak Perempuanku
Karya Gennady Aygi (1934 – 2006)
tempat anak berada – tampak tak merata
dalam batas-batas – dari pantulan rapuh bayangan cahaya: kekosongan! – sebab
dalam diri dia – untuk Mendengarkan
ke Dirinya sendiri
22 January 1983
Night Time in the Mountains
By Chairil Anwar, 1946
I wonder: Is it this moon that makes
the cold, makes the houses pallid and freezes the forest?
This is the first time I’ve been so completely able to respond
to the desire: Hey, there’s a little kid playing tips
with her shadow!
Pantja Raja, No. 1 Vol. 2, 15 Nov 1946, p. 482.
By Emha Ainun Nadjib
one among the thousands of faults
that ensnare the history of our life
is the error we fall into when deciding
how much backwardness is contained in our progress
how much failure is contained in our success
how much destruction is contained in our improvement
how pressing is the darkness contained in our wakening
how enormous is the backwardness contained in our advancement
and how much war is contained in our call for peace.
in our eyes so full of arrogance
ever greater grows the confusion of
what is to be left behind and what embraced
what is of the heights and what of the depths
Emha Ainun Nadjib. 99 untuk Tuhanku [99 For My God], Pustaka Bandung 1983.
Walk to the West in the Morning
By Sapardi Djoko Damono
when i walk to the west in the morning the sun follows me from behind
i follow my own shadow which stretches out in front of me.
the sun and i have no quarrel about which of us has created the shadow
the shadow and i have no quarrel about which of us has to walk in front
Walk to the West in the Morning (Berjalan Ke Barat Waktu Pagi Hari) is from Sapardi Djoko Damono, Mata Pisau (Knife Blade), PN Balai Pustaka, Jakarta, 1982
By Sapardi Djoko Damono
I sought for you in the rain tonight
to say to you greetings. You who were born once.
born again, and always shall be born and reborn.
Oh, have mercy on this your servant.
————————-tens of thousands of babies
have been born since your first birth,
as though the world were provided solely for their cries.
They are the small Christs whose times have crucified them:
slavery, misery, destitution
——–Also like you, they too shall not perish,
but be born and born again, shall always be reborn.
And I bow down. In awe: some still continue to
against the upheavals, which again and again are reborn
in the conscience of every human being:
———————-december flowers that bloom
under the sound of the rain in the middle of the night.
Christ, behold the children in their beautiful clothes
making vows and uttering prayers in church;
they have sought you, and wished to befriend you,
to invite you to sing holy songs.
——————-A shame they do not know
you are busy playing with the sheep
in the stable.
Greetings, Christ. Greetings, whole world,
greetings to you
greetings to me.
Oh, have mercy on this your servant,
——bless this your servant.
——Forgive this your servant.
Retrieved from @PotretLawas. Published in Sastra Bulanan Tjerita Pendak magazine No. 11-12, 1968