Our father who art in heaven,
let’s not move closer,
you and I,
I’ve lost you on the white horizons.
Or is it that the black forest has blinded me.
I’m only happy when birds sing on branches
and deep in the valley,
a Kliwon market hums for me.
I know I can only hear everything once
then everything disappears
and I’ll have to run
Home.
Smash the door in.
Our father who art in heaven,
don’t move any closer,
I’m a man, I’m Nausea,
if I see you naked in the woods
I’ll scream as the Jews did:
“The Cross!”
And you’ll be as dead
as the mud on your shoes.
Subagio Sastrowardojo
(From Simphoni, Jakarta, Pustaka Jaya, 1971, p. 10.)
Divagyrations 