your face white
outside my window
behind my back
since dawn
it has always been thus
the soul
footprints in the mud
of the heart
words
echo in infinity
of space
my hand
trembles as I rip a poem
out of thin air
your eyes
my last memory of you
burn inside me
your face
white outside my window
behind my back since dawn
cripples my arms
Subagio Sastrowardojo
(From Simphoni, Jakarta, Pustaka Jaya, 1971, p. 18.)
Divagyrations 