PUstaka puJAngga

Written by Nurel Javissyarqi
Translated by Agus B. Harianto

Paul van Ostiijen (February 22, 1896 – March 18 1928) is a poet and the author of Belgian Flemish. His nickname was Mister. He was born and died in Antwerp city. His first poetries were influenced by Expressionism, Surrealism, Dadaism. His involvement in activism of Flemish during the World War I, until he flee to Berlin after the war, there he met many artists, beside got a mental crisis. He returned to Belgium to open an art gallery in Brussels, died because of tuberculosis at the sanatorium of Miavoye-Anthée, in Wallonian Ardennes. Czech poet, Ivan Wernisch, deeply impressed upon his genius. Ostaijen imported Expressionist stream in Vlaanderen. Among his works are: “Music-Hall” (1916), “Het Sienjaal” (1918), “Bezette stad” (1921). In “Gedichten” (1928), it has been freed entirely from the Expressionists stream.

To me, the figure of the poet’s personality is predestined by God or ordained him self to enter the curse or cursed. Condemned to be the most solitary creature, delight in the quiet. Initially, he was drawn by large daydream, and then he fought for his dignity for the sake of quality works, which coincided by motioned space-time in the certainty of change.

Like the cloud scales the air pressure of soul for the sake of the birth of a rain that promised to preserve, like rivers he shares reciting of inspirational for all who are trapped in solitude. Which usual in the cloistered world, isolated from the appearance of pseudo becomes delicious meal for ghosts of feeling, introspective of carefully reasoning after figured out the trick of wind riding the change of era.

Ostaijen took various ideologies to quench his continuous thirst in the heart, the endless search if do not want to be eliminated by the grievous moment, disappointment has no medication other than the time must be taken with all strength. His consideration is as smooth as split hair, caressing the wind of possibilities like compounding the prayer, perfect calculations of steps, before actually ended the show; pen was uprooted since the papers of destiny of being.

The poet’s soul resembles a living sponge absorbs surrounding natural, which demanded on the time to be squeezed back. The sponge is the breath translates anguish and interpret seriousness, means the extreme excitement. While the reasoning growth breaks through and gallops forward into millions of research, before he sailed it in poetical language.

Hence, only the totality could express perfectly; thread entered into the smallest hole of needle, the signs at temple wades the desert of happening, frown bends problems. While his heart resembled a lake, calmly he was presenting the shadows also fallen of foliage, broken stems. He considers beyond the degree of stable, although the earth seem tilt by earthquake, etc.

Thus, any risk should be strongly carried, by trained flaming breath towards the beauty of each day. Sharpen the swords of thought, so it wouldn’t be eliminated by transition. Hold the strong stance of his life, for the history emits distinctive charisma.

To the blessing gift, it can share a whole range of motion that becomes its wing’s stretch. Made dialogue with objects, plants, animals, ocean, or even new baby born, stands on the habitual activities allows more. Then made it enough in his personal space where no one can get into it, unless with the same heart rhythm.

When his words sung the tone, his ideas were telling about the life, the nature participated to sing to witness. It is human kind be buried, when there was party in the life, and raised when it’s about their time to fall.

His personality absorbed the character of nationality, he was the chain of civilization, took all spirit of the heart that were scattered for cluster of unification of independence. It’s all for the purity of all beings towards each direction of estuary with flared peace up he felt to make the signs of era. Now let’s see one of his poems:

MELOPEE
Paul Van Ostaijen

Di bawah bulan mengalun sungai panjang
Di atas sungai panjang lena mengalun bulan
Di bawah bulan di atas sungai mengalun perahu ke laut
Menyusuri ladang
menyusuri padang
mengalun perahu ke laut
mengalun dengan insan-mengalun perahu ke laut.
Demikian kawan ke laut perahu bulan dan insan
Kenapa mengalun bulan dan insan berdua-dua ke laut.

MELOPEE
Paul Van Ostaijen

Under the moon the long river slides
Over the long river the moon sleepily slides
Under the moon above the long river the canoe slides to sea
Past the high reed
past the low pasture
slides the canoe to sea
slides with the man-sliding the canoe to sea
So to the sea they are companions the canoe and the moon and the man
Why do the two, the moon and the man, meekly slide to sea

{“Puisi Dunia (World Poetry)”, Volume II, compiled by M. Taslim Ali, BP, 1953, which is retranslated into English would be more or less like above}

Pay attention to it, resembles reading in a dream. Flashes of the lined words blown by the wind and invaded by the ocean waves, until be weary and sleep without any comfort. There is some hanging like it’s needed to be resolved. The burden was finished by a longing of completed liability, in the way of understanding accumulated slowly, following the view on the light of consciousness.

The silence is noisy wished to be meant in the silent night, into the ocean since the rivers of reasoning. The stars give signs to the water that’s whispered on the walls of the canoe amazed mysteriously to purify the feeling. It’s reflected the values of the softness of etiquette, which recites the journey of life.

It’s really the strong receives the destiny which has the most beautiful rules around the nature. The mild memories explore the wind circulation, taking sense to the outside of heart, his understanding is united like a whole body.

There are touched interpret by its own, he traced the pulse that is as much as the dawn to increase the vibration of meaning occurred, and the wind transformed to impassable bridges. He invited to meet the longing under the blue sky, or the sparkling of the night fully stars.

Its spread would not ever be completed to count; only the understanding discerns each other. Then the distance of space-time will not stuck in their presence. There is a similar silence, on the limits of the feeling of human kind.

Paying attention and understanding the peaceful residence, there is no intrigue when the longing is taken care of by horsehair brush stroke to create. A smile awaits the silent laugh of the policy of sustainable, into the heart of inner.

http://sastra-indonesia.com/2010/11/paul-van-ostaijen-1896-1928/

Filed under: Essay, PUstaka puJAngga