Written by Nurel Javissyarqi
Translated by Agus B. Harianto

(I) Nietzsche, what torch you turn on,
until the kingdom of my soul is molten, together with you I incarnate become dust.

(II) Nauseating garbage, flood the brain and sword;
it’s worn out, there is no mirror’s cracking to reflect the light.

(III) In failure, I am fat maggot who makes party in
your field. I- you; hide behind the black of mud
by stingingly of the sun.

(IV) The one who brings disorder to inner heart,
why are you build the foundation? And what are you clothed with the silk for?
While your wild behavior makes color does not only as the tempter.

(V) In the other ripped paper, watch differently
at the corner of mind; doesn’t a ball move circling,
or waterwheel flows electric power?
Don’t put on the head, before found the summit of ocean,
because there is no other else, musing is the grain of salt;
it returns, approach to the sun.

(VI) The twilight of image at the straits of Dwipa,
drags you; god- goddess to undermine the moon,
and shadow groans in the thickness;
bodies of revenge are freezing and get out in solid way.

(VII) How crowded the one who getting in pray is
surrounding the moon, walking around on the blue sky;
odor of your soul is a flower kanthil at the cloud,
that is ever lost in the pleasure park.

(VIII) Obviously ask you into the deepest heart,
before you are realized be with him;
how far the distance of our age to step,
between time- place they estimated,
for your resignation to decide to meet.

(IX) The mist of periods is thicker in every freshmen of morning,
disperses by lifted ball of sun onto you,
a line reminding of lost, when stupidity is dark.

(X) Afternoon, twilight, red folds the white cloud,
this is the crazy anger of firmament at the dark of great east,
on the times hang the remembering on,
when the yearning of night in the bosom of period.

(XI) You let forced reality to settle,
you embed bone in the depth of world of consciousness;
this is the myth, or fishes betrayals to swaying of surge,
be dumped in dry, be burnt on the seashore.

(XII) Butterflies kiss the loveliness of flowers in the park,
fully with the romance of color, moved the esthetics of German,
I mean Gandring flares on the field of loving;
collects the cloud, wave’s horse of ocean’s wind
aims to the decreased night, only the morning star in your eyes.

(XIII) The word is suffer constantly on desert of tired to step the light,
that’s why sleep for a while, in order the night be embraced it thrust;
except the flowers lotus, the other flowers are not blossoming,
therefore let’s make friendship, before the world are sunk.

(XIV) God- goddess are mad, when there is
the one rubbing full moon onto the summit of casuarinas tree,
onto claw of dry tree, being done the arrogance of the world.

(XV) Stone bounces up, avoids javelin eye;
will be better to introspect our self when enjoying to be alone,
when diffusing grasses of wisdom, and let us
insist to move front, in n the war field of wise.

(XVI) All at once the words penetrate,
this is everlasting matting; I be with you and them
to eat meat and feel flying together.
In stomach of blindness; I am dragged by the wind
more than the height of wave. It’s never
for me to land, at door that lost by anxious.

(XVII) The air balloon is running confusedly;
this the great grand father’s owe to their children,
and the holy ritual is approaching to destruction.
At here as the place to battle, being born- being kilt.

(XVIII) The sky of twilight, your shadow is free to appear before,
at the marble’s hall floor of judgment;
an east one lost his eastern,
a west one lost his western,
runs over the era to the next door,
there is molten new world, aims to the superiority.

(XIX) The dark poison of hunger, flounders wings
of strength, leaves over the flat of all kinds of bones,
and the aorta is broken, releases the others.

(XX) At the stopping of time, desire of life is changed;
steel chain is corroded, oiled by the oil of color’s striping,
reincarnation of knowledge is rolling from era to era,
enters the wave into the wave of ocean.

(XXI) Dancer of time, whole light,
rain has thousand eyes on the roaring of a handful of dust,
souls of corn’s seeds are united become one into spirit’s holy place,
to the branch is growing up; buds of blossoming corn’s trees
sends news, on the overripe seeds share the beauties
and also happiness, aims to hinterland of town’s border.

(XXII) Now the time is fastening the light of wave,
the glistening of pebbles are broke, tinkled into the ear of soul,
on soul’s fibers of the meeting of same kinds love and lave
which unites aura’s particles of poet words.

(XXIII) I keep drag fully sleepy,
more than the night until forming of full moon;
won’t pour forth unless dug,
won’t snoring unless being forget,
won’t be in love unless touched in the heart.

(XXIV) Piling of temple stones for mastering of legend,
the one who cut the image statue off, why still curtseying departed spirit?
Makes your twilight be late at the horizon of responsibility of mysterious form,
don’t you take good care of it back.
Doesn’t the home of spiders get rain- hot?
You run to there and here for the mastering,
savage poison is tightly adhere, in the room of shaking hand.

(XXV) At the hill of change, the hand of wind to the others,
move in same way like the colors of flowers on the lake’s water,
or at the back garden, hoed at the skull.

(XXVI) A bat is slowly flapping; left
by its sons to bring disorder to the old city.

(XXVII) Pigeon flies following the moving of hand
of its master; searching for new destination, a season that changed is done.

(XXVIII) At early morning come to you,
from last night dream to enjoy the awaken,
sound of gulp is summarized by meaning in the rhythm of balance;
the buds accost, butterflies made greeting to the sun of twilight,
to the body of lake’s calamity, you are the world fully color.

(XXIX) You are jeering at Socrates with his dialogue.
Doesn’t the consciousness of your period follow his dancing?
This is the insect in the lotus’s lips sucking; above the paper
is staying still, while the dew is the ocean of his yearning.

(XXX) I don’t depend on words construction;
do you think a building is really true?
Don’t you see half parts of roof are leaked;
Glowworms is renewing the spirit of its light,
not on shape, but more into the aroma of prosperity.

(XXXI) Your words is right, the power on swaying value of leafs,
but the breathing one you deny; your simplicity
under Socrates and Plato, and you are
more than the decline of values.

(XXXII) Your determination to do something is equal with Vincent Van Gogh,
therefore I assault bosom; step on the all erectly grasses,
make sure the twilight of death, at the similar flashing sword.
As strong as the broken grass being upright,
the friend of Voltaire stretches our hand,
it is already now, before they vomit, and I stay in diet, I don’t eat your flesh, Nietzsche.

October 22, 2000.

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