Written by Nurel Javissyarqi
Translated by Agus B. Harianto
Adelbert von Chamisso
Itulah kesusahan dari zaman yang sulit!
Itulah zaman yang sulit dari kesusahan!
Itulah kesusahan yang sulit dari zaman!
Itulah zaman dari kesusahan yang sulit!
SONG OF CANON
By Adelbert von Chamisso
That troubles of a difficult era!
That’s the difficult time of sorrow!
That is difficult affliction of age!
That is the time of difficult sorrow!
Adelbert von Chamisso (1781-1838), the blue blood of French who escaped to German after the French Revolution (1789-1799). At 1815 to 1818, he traveled around the world within the destination of scientific expeditions, including to Indonesia. He introduced the Malays poem (pantun) into the public in German. Poet and author who influenced by the stream of romantic, is well known for his novel of symbol “Peter Schlemihls wundersame Geschichte” (magical story about Peter Schlemihls), whom tells the fate of someone who lost his shadow. (From the book “Blue Night In Berlin” in 1989, translated by Berthold Damshäuser and Ramadhan KH).
I felt to be drawn to visit in his novel, though I have never read it. That is the story of the fate of a person, who lost his shadow.
Then I took the highlight, toward his escape to Germany after the French Revolution. Could his basis of writing be possible from there?
Chamisso is blue blood, like a statue standing in the crossroads of town, spread his shadows everywhere.
Unless the sun was right onto the fontanel, the culmination point of man, in which the magnetic power into a self.
For instance, entity has the shadow of its people, the ability of charm create the witnesses to be captivated to pay attention.
But, Chamisso is not a statue, he was a living body filled with breaths to manifest, hence allowed me to make daydreaming to his wilderness, wanderer:
His escape was suffering on the dry field of soul, living the life as ordinary human beings.
His instinctive was on his mother land, there are tears swept by welled dust.
There’s wind blowing striking her curls lengthwise hair like Arjuna.
On his paths he kept reciting Malay pantun, into the deep reflection; life is devotion.
The shadow of his people kept in his body, be sturdy to be serious to hopes that indefinitely went back home.
There was no rejection, when the spiritual nature united in the rhyme of universe; servant and the king is simply cantilever fashion.
While human soul gathers in His sky, by the reflection of life on the earth which the presence came to visit.
Chamisso continued to recite Malay pantun, his voice echoing filled pretty slopes of green valley.
The power was in abundant, when his forehead was squeezing the words. A flash of light comes from drops of sweat, which hatch as pure as the dew of morning sun.
The clear radiates wisdom by politeness of efforts wrought by pain.
Oh, I followed your shadows, sometimes fused sometimes together, also has distant of a tick of clock as time reminder.
Mature age is squeamish. You’re as black as the clouds broadcasting the news in a quiet night, accompanied by oil lamp of distant.
You’re crying about the dream of across land, like orphans, the missing child or the fate of captivity, although had been familiar to the darkest heart.
Is there longing touched you profoundly, until you knelt uselessly to wait for decapitation?
It was not a miracle, when the body did not ever thought would be knelt in front of bright light; its grasping thrilling after from the destination.
No supplies were strapped, just a science been beneficial to bed.
And then Chamisso been lively to scratch reasoning of mind, basically the Eastern people are capable.
It similar like had been balanced the singing of season of the plains of changes, dawn-dusk is almost one expression;
when got up from sleep be forget onto the direction, only the horizon of love in his eyes.