Category Archives: Nationaal Museum van Wereldculturen

Colonialism, Ethics, History, Literature, Majalah Siasat, Murya Artha, Nationaal Museum van Wereldculturen, Netherlands, Poetry, Politics, Revolution

Poem: Sweet By Murya Artha

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Sweet

By Murya Artha

 

The other day we met in plenary session and our leader’s plan
was the decision of the meeting in 1945
on the seventeenth of August four years of bloody history ago
the day we thrashed out the real reason, down to the root problem
right to the core reason of the tyranny
let us decide, one by one; we have to be boldly democratic

Get past these ugly and disgusting incidents
put aside the dark memories and signs of failure to build
otherwise: one color and the determination of 70 million will have been wasted
under pressure we were the ones who thundered before,
who extinguished every trace of the spirit of Deandels and Janfiter Soon Coen…

 

Source: Siasat Magazine, Number 171 Year IV, 18 June 1950.

Murya Artha was born in Parincahan Village, Kandangan, Hulu Sungai Selatan District, South Kalimantan August 20, 1920 as M. Husrien. He used pseudonyms including Bujang Far, Emhart, HR Bandahara, M.Ch. Artum, M.Chayrin Artha, and Artha Artha. He passed away at Banjarmasin October 28, 2002.

Source: (Siasat, 1950) Puisi Murya Artha: Juita

On Governor-General Jan Pieterszoon Coen see Loth, V. C. (1995). Pioneers and Perkeniers: The Banda Islands in the 18th Century. Cakalele, 6, 13-35.

Featured image credit: Zuidoost-Azië: Insulair / Indonesië / Jawa / Jawa Tengah (provincie) / Pekalongan (regentschap)

 

Colonialism, Ethics, History, Literature, Majalah Siasat, Murya Artha, Nationaal Museum van Wereldculturen, Netherlands, Poetry, Politics, Revolution, Translation

Poem: The Meeting By Murya Artha

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The Meeting

By Murya Artha

 

Among those who have roles at meetings
in the midst of our revolution’s ongoing battle of dexterity
a lot of dead meat piles up cracked earth
as if this world does not have enough of God’s grace
nor enough tools to fill the holes.

 

 

Source: Siasat Magazine, Number 171 Year IV, 18 June 1950.

Murya Artha was born in Parincahan Village, Kandangan, Hulu Sungai Selatan District, South Kalimantan August 20, 1920 as M. Husrien. He used pseudonyms including Bujang Far, Emhart, HR Bandahara, M.Ch. Artum, M.Chayrin Artha, and Artha Artha. He passed away at Banjarmasin October 28, 2002.

Source: (Siasat, 1950) Puisi Murya Artha: Rapat

Featured image credit: Slechts weinig is bekend over het leven van de militairen in de Hulu Sungei op Borneo

Colonialism, Democracy, Ethics, Governance, History, Indonesian Law, Joko Widodo, Literature, Nationaal Museum van Wereldculturen, Netherlands, Poetry, Politics, Rule of Law, Translation, Visual Arts, WS Rendra

Poem for the Condors

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By W.S. Rendra

A mountain breeze sweeps down, creeps through the forest
then blows across the surface of a vast river,
coming to rest finally among the tobacco leaves.

Then its heart is filled with compassion
On seeing the sad fate of the peasant workers
Planted in soil that is so rich, so fertile,
But which provides no prosperity for its people.

The peasant workers,
Living in windowless shacks,
Plant seedlings in the fertile soil,
Reap abundant rich harvests
While their own lives are full of misery.

They harvest for rich landlords
Who own beautiful palaces.

Their sweat turns into gold
That is collected by the fat owners of cigar
factories in Europe.
And when they demand income equality,
The economists adjust their ties nervously,
and respond by dispatching condoms.
Suffering overflows
from the trenches lining the faces of my people.

From dawn till dusk,
the bedraggled people of my country trudge, striving,
turning to the left, turning to right,
in an effort that is uncertain.

At sundown they turn into a pile of garbage,
and at night they are sprawled across the floor,
and their souls are transformed into condors.

Thousands of condors,
millions of condors,
flocking toward the high mountains,
and there gain respite from the loneliness.

Because only the loneliness
Is able to suck out the revenge and the pain.
The condors screech.
In anger they scream out,
Sound out in places that are lonely.

The condors scream
On the mountain crags they call out
Sound out in places that are lonely
By the millions the condors scratch at the rocks,
Snap at the stones, peck at the air,
and in the cities there are those who prepare to
shoot them.

Poem for the Condors (Sajak Burung-Burung Kondor) was published in State of Emergency, W.S. Rendra, Wild & Woolley, Glebe, 1978, p. 58.

Featured image: [De Rivier] Waterval met roofvogel

History, Literature, Majalah Siasat, Murya Artha, Nationaal Museum van Wereldculturen, Netherlands, Poetry, Revolution, Translation

Poem: Friend By Murya Artha

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Friend

By Murya Artha

 

I have handed out enough gunpowder and saltpetre
it was a mortal combat, and we even came through it:

Only today you and I write a new chapter, a chapter of victory
equal to our country’s wealth, as high as flying to the stars
and have soared to the seventh heaven
another level and the unity of every national action will be clear
one above even the teaching of the goal of sovereignty

 

Banjarmasin, ’50.

 

 

Source: Siasat Magazine, Number 171 Year IV, 18 June 1950.

Murya Artha was born in Parincahan Village, Kandangan, Hulu Sungai Selatan District, South Kalimantan on 20 August 1920 as M. Husrien. He used pseudonyms including Bujang Far, Emhart, HR Bandahara, M. Ch. Artum, M. Chayrin Artha, and Artha Artha. He passed away at Banjarmasin October 28, 2002.

Source: Kumpulan Fiksi Blog, (Siasat, 1950) Puisi Murya Artha: Kawan

Featured image: Dancers With Kris, J.F.E. (Johan Frederik Engelbert) ten Klooster (Vervaardiging) Inscripties : Serie Wajang Wong 3 / – / Ten Klooster Serie Wajang Wong 3 [Dansers met kris]