Tag Archives: Puisi

Malam Transfigurasi, Karya Richard Dehmel

Malam Transfigurasi

Oleh Richard Dehmel

Dua orang melalui hutan kering yang dingin;
bulan berlari bersama mereka, mereka memandangnya.
Bulan berlari di atas pohon-pohon ek yang tinggi;
tidak ada awan yang mengaburkan cahaya dari langit,
di mana dahan kering hitam merentang.
Suara seorang wanita berbicara:

Aku mengandung anak, dan bukan milikmu,
aku berjalan dalam dosa di sampingmu.
Aku telah sangat berdosa pada diriku sendiri.
Aku tak lagi percaya pada kebahagiaan
namun penuh kerinduan
akan kehidupan yang bermakna, akan bahagianya menjadi ibu
akan tugas; kurelakan
dengan gemetar, kutinggalkan kaumku
dalam dekapan pria tak dikenal,
dan karenanya aku diberkati.
Sekarang hidup sendiri telah membalas dendam:
sekarang pun aku telah bertemu denganmu, ya kamu.

Dia berjalan dengan langkah canggung.
Dia mendongak; bulan sedang berlari.
Tatapan gelapnya tenggelam dalam cahaya.
Suara seorang pria berbicara:

Biarkan anak yang kaukandung
membuat jiwamu tanpa beban.
Ya, lihat betapa jernihnya alam semesta berkilau!
Ia bersinar untuk segalanya;
Kau terapung denganku di atas laut yang dingin,
tapi ada kehangatan pribadi berkedip
dari kau di dalamku, aku di dalammu.
Ini akan metransfigurasi anak yang asing itu,
Kau akan lahirkan anak itu bagai anakku sendiri;
kau bawa cahaya padaku,
kau buatkan aku seorang anak.

Dia rangkul tubuh yang penuh.
Napas mereka berciuman di udara.
Dua orang melalui malam yang tinggi dan cerah.


—Richard Dehmel, Verklärte Nacht, pertama kali diterbitkan di Weib und Welt (1896)

Rujukan

Featured image credit: www.dehmelhaus.de/aktuell.html

The Tendrils of Memory

The Tendrils of Memory

By Tintajemari

the tendrils of memory punish me so harshly,
the tightness in my chest feels like being stabbed in the heart,
I burst into sobs
breaking the silence of regret,
while I know that you will not be arriving
to wipe away my tears,
the memory now cuts me to the core, my love

 

 


Source: Sulur-sulur ingatan itu by IG: Tintajemari

Featured image Journey To East Java (Borobudur) By
Rahiman Madli https://flic.kr/p/a9gxrH

Don’t forget to check out: https://www.instagram.com/tintajemari/

We Met

We Met

By Tintajemari

We met,
not at the right time,
I think,
or perhaps the universe is trying
to say that love has never really
ever existed?
for us

 

 


Source: Kita bertemu

Featured image Journey To East Java (Yogjakarta) by
Rahiman Madli https://flic.kr/p/aa6bpp

Don’t forget to check out: https://www.instagram.com/tintajemari/

The Next Sunset

The Next Sunset

By Tintajemari

i console my sadness at sunset that is so fleeting
when night falls let my longing stay strong
till the next sunset when our meeting begets gazes
And that if God still takes pity
and eases my worry that’s reached the point of exhaustion.

 


Source: Aku Menulis Lagi blog, Featured image from InfoAstronomy.org

Don’t forget to check out:

https://www.instagram.com/tintajemari/

Poem for a Cigar

Poem for a Cigar

By W.S. Rendra

Taking a drag on a fat cigar
Gazing over Great Indonesia
Listening to 130 million people,
And in the sky –
Two or three businessmen squat down –
And shit on their heads.

The sun comes up
And the sun goes down
And all I can see are eight million children
Without education.

I question,
But my questions
Slam into the desks of bureaucrats like a traffic jam,
And the blackboards of educators
Who are cut off from the problems of life.

Eight million children
Cram down one long road,
With no options
With no trees
With no shady places to rest,
With no idea of where they’re going.

***

Suck in the air
Full of deodorant spray,
I see unemployed graduates
Covered in sweat along the highway;
I see pregnant women
Queuing for pension money.
And in the sky:
The technocrats sprout
That the country is lazy
That the country has to be developed,
Must be “upgraded”,
Made to fit technology that’s imported.

Mountains tower skyward.
The sky a festival of colors at sunset.
And I see
Protests that are pent up
Squeezed under mattresses.

I question,
But my questions
Bang into the foreheads of salon poets,
Who write about grapes and the moon
While injustices happen all around them,
And eight million children with no education
Gape at the feet of the goddess of art.

The future hopes of the nation,
Stars swirling in front of their faces,
Below neon advertisements.
The hopes of millions of mothers and fathers
Meld into a gaggle of clamoring voices,
Become a reef under the surface of the ocean.

***

We have to stop buying foreign formulas.
Textbooks can only provide methods,
But we ourselves have to formulate our condition.
We have to come out into the streets,
Go into the villages,
See for ourselves all the indicators
And experience the real problems.

This is my poem,
A pamphlet for a time of emergency.
What is the point of art,
If it’s cut off from the suffering around it
What is the point of thinking
If it’s cut off from the problems of life.

ITB Bandung
19 August 1977


This version of Poem for a Cigar (Sajak Sebatang Lisong) comes from State of Emergency, W.S. Rendra, Wild & Woolley, Glebe, 1978, p. 12.

Three parties in the 1977 election - Poem for a Cigar
The three parties in Indonesia’s 1977 legislative election

Other work by W.S. Rendra