Written by Nurel Javissyarqi
Translated by Agus B. Harianto
(I) When the echoing bell is surrounding to the valleys of soul;
the tree acacia, trembesi, mahogany and teak,
unite the rhyme of a prayer service,
be hurry sweetheart, before the hurricane collapse everything.
(II) Your hair hangs down of a softness of wind of dew picking,
to the mature bosom of the lake, and the farmer of wine’s garden
presses its fruit in the season of flower,
when the sun sows the grass of rice plants;
portions of a rice paddy freshens the river’s flowing
which have been waiting the party of thanksgiving.
(III) You are the composing of centuries ballad had summarized in book,
the wing’s feathers flap, awakes the big breath of yours;
the blood are scattered to bathe the village of birth land,
and the shadow of overcast takes the wind to go to the drizzle.
The miracle of morning for tired, and the earth- sky are felt so close,
feels like hunger body, deaf ear, the eyes are seeing the stars;
leaves the black spirit far away aims to the world of sunless.
(IV) The dry stalk is suffered constantly on the river,
so many kilogram of nervous of bird float in the space;
lessens the gravity of earth to be alliance with the storm,
enters the staring of light.
The ink culminates like leafs wraps on the head of student,
and the slot of branch sends the news about it;
thin kissing onto the weather of height,
sleep tight on the branch, the others enclose song of twilight,
and the body is glaring with gray, has vision of first Godliness.
(V) All kind of bitter of changing, taking the power of earth for long time,
the guiding of this story in the river’s flowing that has the curvature of motherland.
The human crosses over the stone of hill to move like the heavy current of water,
his soul are yielding, the ravine of sincere waits for the death;
smiling comes to memorize the crying of rain,
pry up the yearning onto the fragrant of beach flowers.
Drag softly the tongue of wave since from the wild cactuses,
I was sinking, drawn in the reciting of daydreaming.
The fragrant of that rotation across the graveyard of accounting,
the breath is lifted up by the water source of wish,
life tells the story about The Flower Lotus.
(VI) The motivation of outer aware is moved by the inner of inner aware,
your sickle eyebrow is as beauty as the flower of sesbania,
to the robe of night scatters the stars.
You live in the sky of lake sailed; the angel folds the cloud
covers at the atmosphere of city gate.
Waits for the opener of century, new world is absorbed by the spirit of God’s wish,
then the tales of folks lives in the heart.
(VII) The surge shakes the free straits,
the air moves each sentence of firmament,
meet the news of eternality reaches the beaches of mother’s prayer,
and always flops the rock, cape stifles the sand of feeling.
The sons of seashore found the salt of essence,
while this rhythm you receive as the way it is.
(VIII) Tone infiltrates the far away nook to the ear of the world,
the sentence and submission smiling sing the feeling.
This is the poem of poet before gets old;
the young wanderer is as odor as his ascetic practicing, His (God) grace is galore.
A grain of dew is seized,
the inner heart steps up a pulse of aorta, the messengers compose the heart.
(IX) Tremble, its remembrance pours the fresh sap out,
if the ship is founder on the rock’s edge of reality;
at beginning was the strange aims to the yearning to dig the meaning up,
debility of dry clears away to the heaven of internal, the heart are blossoming.
(X) I call the throne of lotus in the edge lake of soul,
the sprucing up to the mirror of poor wanderer said the word;” Lotus,
allows me to embraced collect a gulping of your water
evicted of my thirsty as the food of my hunger,
had long I felt the suffer from a loss.”
Then you answer;
“take it as curer of thirsty filer of hungry,
this is my holy sacrifice, when you are really need.”
Through the cup of his both hand, he is drinking the purity,
and then the buds alienate the night’s hugging.
(XI) There is no perfect story,
it continues to retrace the edge;
had washed a piece of letter away
in the lake nurses the soul comfort,
the lave of superior grade,
takes the civilization up into the eyes of period that is almost lost.
The shiny face, the wind of tropic sways to and fro of your hair
as clear as the baby stares at, always to The Power of God.
(XII) A sheet of paper of testimony, is uncovered by the book of morning’s dew
which cracks into the dry field, will be forgotten the lightly sound of joking;
it’s really done a feeling sharply have its effect,
the cloud shows the white glittering knifes,
at there the fresh youth drips the grace;
when the glowworm is hiding its light,
the freezing cold like stone to the top’s climbing,
and the wings of butterflies are broke at the window.
(XIII) The cloud doesn’t imprison the bowing wind,
as noble as the primer person shelters his people;
at once the fall in small drop of drizzle creates the buds be back,
its remembrance is careful, the fragrant of changing times.
At the jail, the heat of soul is the real licking,
the dry of time turns to be stone in the forehead of resigned.
The cutting piece of young bone is moved,
its inner heart is connected to the top;
hermit forgets about the body more than the place- time,
locks him self in the silent,
meets the God.
(XIV) The whole power are used, the present century is the throne of real peace,
a piece of paddy that is doing pray on the stone of marble,
the soul of seeds is putted in bet when flying;
downcast flower, the heartbeat just left one,
the gate of blossom is for you,
stories about the stage as light as the smiling,
for the one who stops at your night’s lake alas the essence.
Green bird decorates the morning, the bent leafs are shaking
in harmony with the news of the cluster rice fields stairs of valley, attends without end
always found the explanation in the countries of visiting.
Your spirit as same level as the flower of relief on the stones of temple,
the green nature surrounds the master piece in the depth of heart.
(XV) There is no word to represent, the dream flows to the river of motherland,
enjoys the naughtiness of stiff
creeps over the insisted dry season
enters the hemisphere of silent, soul of the wanderers.
Only the stone beside the frozen word,
the musty of moss get the wall of yearning be dumb,
while the alphabet become steam and lost is forgotten,
then the mist is visited to the new land;
had enough to receive, as the forever weather?
(XVI) Holds the stalk, the gold wilted flower,
the fruit that I gave is drying now, its bucket always smells good,
the color of sincere crying is silver,
meet the master in long sleeping;
“is this the brother of abdomen, whom looks after you in the whole time?”
The dawn reminds to the trip of finds the summit of world of essence;
“how are you over there,
when finding the beauties of universe?”
(XVII) The flower lotus blossoms at night,
hides in the dark of silent,
the moon tails the pretty one from behind the slots of time,
the light is seethed in the in passing storm.
If you love her then let her go, your duty is just looks after her,
and don’t stop her if meet her
on the letters that washed away on the lake,
because the destiny of separated is similar like the shadow be loyal to follow the body;
remember on that dimple of the face of rose,
until there is no more jealous, because the wounds-pain are staying in the heart of mankind.
(XVIII) My greeting: “the children of shepherd are bathed in the lake,
picks your stalk up, kissing the sincere sheath that you are attended.”
This is the story that grows at the cluster of village;
at once time the flower is weak,
because there is among those children are forgot, didn’t carry you
together with semanggi grasses for their livestock of animals.
I pick you up for hug as an embracing of the child,
and you allow me even though I was not the shepherd;
the flower of beauties gives promise on the happiness, only for the lonely souls.
(XIX) That night I incarnated becomes poet;
a cup of coffee and so many cigarettes are sucked,
the smoke flied upward more than the logical of dream,
the pen moved to sailed,
the consciousness of amazement was onto you, the light was alive in the narrow room.
The deepest desire from the realizing of creation,
the time incarnated become the eternality;
this was the craziness of mysterious night,
when I was in the rotation of flower’s smell.
(XX) Yesterday I was only the wanderer which dull in writing,
while the present time is so many sheets of paper suffer on ink,
as long as the curl hair of night’s river stretches.
At the top of it is putted the smiling, gives the magic power for me;
who you really are? Are you just a lotus?
Or you are the softness incarnation of universe?
I fulfill the room with the incense of yellow sandalwood, until forget the address of birth.
(XXI) In the middle height of fire,
the strong chain ties the self,
lonely and disorder, the fence that has no master;
“does he out from the line of literary?
Look at the crazy wanderer that doesn’t know the purpose,
walks with carry on the head the destruction, eats the rottenness.
The rain is wet the swelter is sting, the looking of eyes is deathly pale;
If the iron is rusty, the dusts are dying.
(XXII) The full moon culminates the splendor,
gives the sheath in the mysterious and quiet musing;
look at the tongue of wave licks the wall of heart,
the ray is cracking in the canvas of sky, token by forced by the right of ink.
Switch the torch on when the heart is extinguished,
be flared to lighten the odor corners of smiling
which indistinctly of its coming in the sarong of hesitation.
In the room of empty, the red string pulls the nets of spider,
the light is unwilling to appear partially, buries the bright of lantern;
the gift is for you, helps the aware to step away.
(XXIII) Even your light burns my wings,
i don’t carry the anger; the wound by burnt saves the memory,
will be free the yearning to say the lave.
The holy fragrant of flower lotus, the little and cute heart of universe is flying,
the sacred flower is now assumed usual;
Is this the embracing of times changed with the teenage?
The lotus beside you accompanies the gamelan of silent of the lake,
and the nights are fully grace with the heart fragment
which never had by the other flowers.
(XXIV) The copulation ballads of dawn’s sheaths
sucks the lips of mist to tell the warm time;
the stairs of cloud moves crouching aim to the kingdom of thousand moons,
testified as usual the eclipse gilds the full moon.
In the mysterious park of Welirang, the warm attends,
the pebble threatens to question;
“are there never ending marriage in the heart of human being?”
Forget has the aroma of quiet, the nervous is cured in the dream;
Does deserved to said unless the true story,
be loyal to accompany you until the ceremony of love,
about the forever returns home of the family of lotus.
(XXV) Your karma at ending and beginning are started,
the whole particle of air is the incarnation of the love,
the blanket is hugged warmly of the best friend,
the words engage the beauties of tropics;
chews the yearning cures the heart,
a green grass has the wind of teak’s tale.
The grave flower of lotus of full moon, the compounding of its sheaths is united in a stalk;
these are the alleys of your breath of the pulsating of universe,
its leafs floats alike gestures,
and the fishermen by net adds the result of musing,
memorized by them the way of life increase and sink,
and then get higher to the top of sacrificing.
(XXVI) The saying of male frog; “this is the conveyor of life,
the next period is just left in memory,
be sad to memorize, sink;
a grain of lake’s water on the hand,
the blossoming lotus breeds as free as the patter of rain following each other successively,
complies and praises the splendor of creation,
heighten the grade of swamp’s water in the big part of legend
on the spreading of wonderfully blue stars,
a singing of misty wind to the doors of house,
resembling like the soft touching of the ancestor’s ballad
for the link of century embroiders the bright night.”
(XXVII) The tired night freezes the ruins of mist,
swimming in the cold river to pick the ancient’s holiness up,
on the softness crochets the true story;
the stage is fully with the show, the noon is bought- sold,
the occupant of link world, disappears when smelting the ascetic practicing.
The storied teller of sense, his breath is a candle gives the light,
Its life doesn’t eternal even though is connected with the wick;
east- west be molten by your understanding,
and the body is pass away soon- later the flame is extinguished too.
(XXVIII) The fresh wind boosts the dancing up;
the news of desire of the blood vomited and the courage of wound yielded,
recites the ballad of your love is quickly spend the soul.
Move front be higher than waits the cool of death;
The earthenware jug’s pouring of foam’s song, the glass tinkling of party’s glasses,
the fresh smiling is stabbed by the voluptuous feeling, be in drunk of the feeling.
(XXIX) The wind is whispered doesn’t extinguished in the middle of wish,
the grains of fire remove peels the skin of flesh to open the mirror of renewal;
“I am the flame of candle from your always flaring.”
The body melts sweet soul; the goal fills the emptiness of night,
the stone’s piling of silent keeper is storied the stupa for the temple,
the late of holy understanding from you had answered;
because nervously in doubt in the fullness of yearning,
don’t let it be extinct, until lost the jealous.
(XXX) The dropping of drizzle falls in mid night
guards the lonely soul in the flickering century,
at the beginning of intention is to step then restrains the bitter of tongue;
a gulping of water as the driven out of the speechless, run- be cheerfully
the jingle of golden cart singing is picking you up,
be pulled by six horses which have white and gold wings,
cruise the world that without gestures to the whole universe of secret.
(XXXI) So that the way it is sweetheart, doesn’t sleep in the dread,
be nervous in the emptiness; carry on the shoulder the burden of tired,
shredded if be off guard by the dancing of a sword in the air.
The body will be passed and useless, the weather of cold is flickering,
the angels take the wishes.
Before get bowing to peep at, your green leaf is precious
when the end of east sleeps the sun;
the group of crow fly, every days is turbulence,
the war is asking the pacifying gift of the children of the period.
(XXXII) The country of lotus grows in peace,
but now is having no occupant, the pale faces are frozen in feeling,
there is still the asking of soul, the pacifying gift had described indistinctly,
the leader forgets about his self and greedy; the ocean of blood, the holy wine,
be poured on the table of judgment.
They follow their own laws, the party of death;
the sun is versifying the disaster, the women are falling headfirst
for the dreaming of injured full moon.
The dropping of blood is falling onto the sheath of crack,
caressing the rose with the tear of sorrow;
the lotus in the nervous silent.
(XXXIII) The painting of twilight’s white cloud in the lake of bright red,
the fresh drinking;
the time of turmoil, the judgment day fastens of its want.
The ships aren’t sailed,
the walls of rock is cracked by the wind pours the passion.
The news had close, folded by the map of time of the world aims to the heaven,
the holy books doesn’t touch the heart anymore,
the broom of split coconut midribs is turned to statue at the corner of guess room.
They are more interested to the dime romance of the dream’s novel, will
not get there, the chain sinks in the current of drunk;
the carcass bird more early to fly to bring disorder to the country of louse.
(XXXIV) That time chewed the bile of more than ten of time,
the person of sacred in soul is extinct; the kind man shows his kindness,
the bad guy be wilder without shy.
The scholar crazier than the insane people,
the parallel eyes are difficult to differentiate when the happening is shown up;
the sun- moon are sunk, one at the north, the other at the south.
The one who be sincere to nurse the nature be always gave the easiness of guiding;
between the disaster and party, between the blood and also the lake,
the sun is extinguished when the night gives the lesson to the wanderer.
(XXXV) It had been the God’s will that can’t be avoided,
it maybe can only lessen, alike the poet’s said;
the lotus will blossom the sheath of night again,
resembling like the child at the edge of lake of Mbalong sari,
the clay made by him as the own world, or
controlling the flight of the kite and its string hooked onto the bamboo’s jungle,
the sadness is jangle, let the lotus as the curer of hurricane;
the land of silent, the grass’s smell be more fragrance, the late of the self realizing is quiet,
doesn’t heighten onto the top of consciousness to the God, but
the willing of gathering become one of the creature- the God.
September 2000, Gunung Kidul. Yogyakarta.
1. Semanggi: from Javanese which mean dish of vegetables steamed with spices.