PUstaka puJAngga

Translated by Agus B. Harianto

[TREAT THE SOULS]

I adjourn my sleepy, for the rustling and cute dawn:
women walk to market, the birds chirp.

It fell asleep on the grain of cloud, recited hill,
slopes of the shoreline and the dance of wave, really touched.

A pair of wings flied beyond the height of the past
to the hopes of sun, shadow picking spirit.

Knowledge is as sharp as of sickle on the hands of herdsman,
the words circle into the consciousness of centuries.

Music chanting war slaughter:
who was unable to call, will be severed in vain.

[TREAT THE SOULS, VERSION II]

I adjourn my sleepy
for the rustling and cute dawn, women walk to the market,
birds chirping in the crowded of city carried me out.

Grain of princess cloud recited the wind of shore,
ocean wave dancing and blue of your heart waiting.

Its wings flied beyond the height of the hill,
hope as old as the shadow of the sun picking the verses.

Spirit of the herdsmen of words entered the consciousness of
centuries. Music was chanting for compete of policy in
the eyes of world, who was not call severed in vain.
.

[A DISH OF YOUR SMILE]

The sky light paints the clouds,
through thousands winds of simultaneous confidence.

Plied the fuggy crown stretched,
hoed in the fields of the human soul
:
thrashing clay promised by wanderer.

Enter the jungle fully chirp
dew drips on leaves calling morning.

Outside the cave needles of grass rises
I ignored one eye without separation.

The steps open the gate of reverie of
follows the flow of the river to the sun.

Which is vociferous of its clattering waves, in
chest depth your signs of smile lie.

[A DISH OF YOUR SMILE, VERSION II]

The sky light so bright
paints the clouds.

And thousands of simultaneous wind,
believed the rain wouldn’t come.

Stressed crown moved the body
sweat hung the sentence.

Hoed on the fields of soul,
broke clay of the self, was promised.

Entered the jungle of chirp
dew dripping on morning foliage:
call the heart in the cave of hermitage.

Needle of grass weeds was rising,
to angle of eyes the sky of separation.

Steps opened the gate of daydream:
in harmony of the time of silent song I contemplated,
followed the rhythm of the river to the sun.

Which its ripple clattering
in the chest, determinants signs of smile.

[PICKING UP THE DREAM]

As light as song of rain dancing
from the sky the light opened window
:
he always waits for the words.
A wing of his faithful floats loyally,
emits the life showers prayer
:
quiet was slicing the skin of his lover.
Where certainty beats in the chest
hunts and shoots the shooting stars
:
picking up the dreams of his woman.
Enjoyed the sun on the dawn of union,
licked the sky to shed virgin blood
:
slapped cheek as a stretching of wave stabs.

[PICKING UP THE DREAM, VERSION II]

As light as singing of the drizzle to the heart
light of lamp open window,
what had been awaited is merely the words.

The wing of lover floats faithfully
provides radiation of prayers
decorates fragrant of sustainable night.

Quiet, makes sure the beat of chest
shot the falling stars
picking up the dreams and hopes.

Gulping the ambushed wind of dawn
licking the sky of thunderous cloud,
spilled the waves stab:

I always intimate with poetry
unwilling to disengage before the words
carried thousand burden of waiting.

[POEM OF BRIDGE]

Look at my ocean, take a handful of clouds
while stabbing waves on coral crush.

Flying sand incarnated bee in your eyes
and wind gust was fainted picked up by my poems.

Here I entered consciousness of bridge of
shadows walking along the beach into the forest.

I followed you
as far as the twilight went to the door.

[POEM OF BRIDGE, VERSION II]

Look at my ocean, grab a handful of clouds
will be stabbed by wave in the crush of rock.

Flying sand on every wind direction,
from the front of fainted picked up by my poems.

Over here, my step got in to the consciousness,
shadow walked along the lush pine forest.

A flash light city of your eyes came from
tailed in the far twilight,
sleep dreams into my bridge.

[IN IJO TEMPLE]

Sculptured of dragon head gives signs
to the dust on ceiling of wall.

Entering into alleys of the ancient city
rolled the echoes of time to be solid.

The papers of endless testament been read
heir breath crossed the story.

Turtles cried
on the open arms of light.

The age filled by magical gending
the power of eternal lovers in it.

[IN IJO TEMPLE, VERSION II]

Our bodies shaking
visit the womb of enshrinement.

Chest veiled in rumble
watching at the relief of romance.

Hair of the goddess of universe
hung loosely, blown by fingers of period.

And Last Trumpets echoes
to the gate of bright twilight.

Such as allowed the stone flower of
cloud’s petals went away.

In the evening folding map of
the wind direction toward the valley.

End of leaves of age engaged to
branch altered falter.

Is there a call for wind sounded
continuously and melancholy onto bed?

[FAG]

Much prettier facing the caressing of wind,
early morning the sea waves struck
:
gulls flying above foam without boring.
The fate has not been summarized by breath
:
the gasping words will have wings
to the other side is the echo of sound.

[FAG, VERSION II]

The days of past would come
as much as a stretching hand for pray.

Dew of leaves swallowed by revenge,
dry of thirst to the end the waiting.

[GRAVEYARD]

My personality hasted to borrow your pen
hidden since last century.

Allowed me to write in the frame of time
caused the air of death tailing at me.

A moan of drizzle to the top of worry
memory chosen onto a pile of books.

The leaves is guidance for the wind of butterfly,
flapped gust of jeremiad to your face.

Cold fish danced behind a cloud,
as smooth as opener mist of Lawu mountain.

Wind rolled riding horse
marching forward to remember my childhood.

Received manual typewriter to sing the memory
kissing the heart on along of passing path:
retracing prejudices of ghost, my murmur.

[GRAVEYARD, VERSION II]

I was hasted borrowing your lips
hidden since waiting.

Allowed me to say at the frame of time
by the hand been waiting for my death.

The mother of night called behind a curtain
:
worship rushed to carry withered body.

In the more solemn hearing,
souls of rain spilling dance.

The season of quiet scrambled out,
fetched with the whole longing.

[POEM OF HOMEWARD]

Your diving into the seabed
sunk to crawl lip
:
your eyes sharpened by tears.

Only the air dwells breathing,
had saved stone in the folds of iron.

Engraved a creese in the heart of
gates of heaven of flashed destiny.

Came home riding on flying horse,
flied command of the light of heart.

[POEM OF HOMEWARD, VERSION II]

I saved the granite folded by iron
I engraved a creese with no ordered
only the heart always speaks.

Throughout stoned of sky,
it’s about time opened the gate to go home.

Came riding the horse
reincarnation of gods decree on the palms,
history is created under the conscious of man.

[COFFEE SHOP IN THE FOREST OF NGAWI]

At the gates of time looking at women
: sitting on stall in the middle of jungle
not wasted a glass of coffee at the side of porch.

Eagles ride the wind across the cloud
interesting staring hoped on the falling rain.

She smelled the aroma of evening grass,
baked by skyline on the horizon of primordial.

Hill plate is hearth of firmament,
hugs the evening of dumb eyes.

Searching the night and went under for long
lines of trees left behind the light.

The cold disturbed by warmth of campfire
wood of charcoal rattled and shouted for fire.

Be hasted to ride the dreams to the border of dawn
a dew of rice field dampens the days.

[COFFEE SHOP IN THE FOREST OF NGAWI, VERSION II]

In the besieged jungle
dry trees wither
:
dry stalks fell out
sprinkled paled dust
on devious path and sadly of its silent.

Every time crushed by wheels of time
scattered leaves enflamed
:
dancing to the edge of the foot
sang sad-ballad of motherland.

Behind dark cloud,
I ordered a glass of coffee
:
sweet strong and extremely hot.

A girl was insisted to glance
Brought cup on the end of cigarette lighter
:
ignited the fire, her heart beating so fast.

Through the opened window, I staring
the autumn awaited the blossom of flowers
:
hoped on green leaves back in the eye.

http://sastra-indonesia.com/2010/08/9-sajak-kembar-nurel-javissyarqi/

Filed under: Poems, PUstaka puJAngga