"Praise be to God, and to you too."

I know, you must be sick of me. I’m sorry. I don’t want to do this either. Who would? But I need the money to pay for my school fees, my brothers’, books for my sister, ribbons for her hair. My parents are not rich, not like yours. But I have hopes too, dreams, plans for the future. So, please.

And of course: praise be to you, and God too.

1945, February 14

*Supriyadi led the PETA rebellion in Blitar

He saw how the Japanese forced farmers to hand over all the rice they had, even though they were running out of food, down to sewing tree barks into clothes, dying as romusyas, etc.

He hated the Japanese so much he decided to go ahead with his rebellion.

(Zulkifli Lubis: MSII47)

(from Kronik Revolusi Indonesia (Chronicle of the Indonesian Revolution), Volume 1 (1945), Pramoedya Ananta Toer, Koesalah Soebagyo Toer, Ediati Kamil, KPG, Jakarta 1999, p. 3)

SURAT SEORANG ISTRI PEDAGANG KELILING DARI DESA CH’ANG KAN

Waktu itu rambutku masih dipotong batok
Aku bermain dekat gerbang, aku cabuti bunga-bunga.

Kau datang di atas égrang, seperti kuda goyang,
Berputar-putar, mengayun serangkai plum biru di tangan.

Umurku empat belas tahun waktu kau memilihku jadi istrimu,
Sekalipun aku tak pernah tersenyum.

Aku menunduk, menatap tembok,
Kau memanggilku seribu kali, aku tak pernah menengok.

Umur limabelas tahun aku berhenti merajuk
Bermimpi menuang abuku ke dalam mangkok abumu

Setiap kali pergi kau selalu pulang tepat waktu.
Tak perlu memanjat menara menunggumu.

Kita akan tinggal di Ch’ang Kan selamanya
Dan aku tak pernah curiga.

Umurku enambelas waktu kau pergi lagi
Ke Ku-to-yen katamu, melawan arus

Deras bulan Juni. Teriakan
babon-babon terdengar seperti hujan tangis.

Kali ini di pintu gerbang kau berdiri lama.
Tapi mana jejakmu sekarang? Hilang tertutup

Musim gugur, daun-daun jatuh, dan
Lumut semakin tebal, terlalu tebal untuk sapuku!

Dua kupu-kupu sekuning daun di tanah
Terbang bersama ke barat taman.

Sakit hatiku.
Aku pun tidak lagi muda.

Kalau sekarang kau masih ingin pulang
Kirimi aku kabar. Mungkin aku akan pergi

Menunggumu. Menjemputmu.
Sekali ini saja. Hanya sampai Cho-fu-Sa.

(disadur dari terjemahan puisi Li Po atau Li Bai oleh Ezra Pound (“The River-Merchant’s Wife: A Letter”), William Carlos Williams (“Long Banister Lane”), & David Hinton (“Ch’ang-Kan Village Song”) yang dimuat di The New Directions Anthology of Classical Chinese Poetry, New Directions, 2003, hal. 73-76)

Kampung

If I want to get out of this country, Sis, it’s
because the air here is stuffed with
dead thoughts.

Nothing’s changed, just
like back then at
the kampung.

People are busy setting up rules
for alley traffics
night patrols and
registrations at the kemantren.

Everyone wants to have his say
on morals, politics, religions
as if they know what they’re talking about.

Hang families who put on dance parties! Down
with la petite bourgeoisie! I’m waiting
for someone to say, ‘Just leave them alone.’

Everyone flirts
with the djamu-woman, laughs
at all her jokes.

And gossips on the street mean so much
more than a quiet samadhi
alone.

People are suspicious
of love
and trust.

If I want to get out of the country, Sis, it’s
because I want to be free and find the real
me.

(Subagio Sastrowardojo, Simphoni, Pustaka Jaya 1971, pp. 35-36)

The Story Of An Old Man Who Died This Morning As Told By A Friend Who Said He Will Be A Poet One Day

This is sad.
An old man at the intersection, dead, next to the traffic lights.
His belly, concave like glasses for the near-sighted.
A fly, knee deep in sores full of pus, electric yellow like the colours of the prostitutes’ clothes.
I’m standing next to him.
And I’m thinking.
Am I going to end up like this,
Dead like a dog with my legs spread open?

(Adri Darmadji Woko, in Penyair Muda Di Depan Forum, Dewan Kesenian Jakarta 1976, p. 63)

Bukit Timur (1083)

Hujan mencuci Bukit Timur, bulan bersinar terang;
Tadi orang kantoran bergegas, sekarang petani melenggang.
Untuk apa khawatir tentang bongkah batu di pinggir jalan?
Aku pukul dengan tongkatku, aku suka suaranya menggema.

(Su Tung-p’o, dari Selected Poems of Su Tung-p’o, terjemahan Burton Watson, Copper Canyon Press 1994, hal. 104)