TENGGARA 6 / Dept. of English/
University of Malaya/ Kuala Lumpur
p. 3 TENGGARA 6 / 1 973
memory of a masked
dance from tijrebon
by ajip rosidi
TRANSLATED BY HARRY AVELING
On a stone mountain man has built a monument
A restlessly searching city, a new Seoul, brave
In its window displays, coloured lights, troubled souls
Uncaring searching in a atmosphere of futility
I see a people adrift between two worlds:
And I see myself reflected there.
Chasing with passion the shadow of tomorrow
Dreaming of a past which grow more beautiful as it grows more distant.
As I watch the masked dance in the Summer Palace
I remember the beauty of Tjirebon masked dance.
As I listen to Tang-ak, my body gently at rest
I remember the beauty of the gamelan of Balu.
The further I travel, the more I see
The more I value my own, carelessly wasted.
" Takenang Topeng Cirebon [Memory of a Masked Dance form Tjirebon]
apperaed in Basis, Yogyskarta. (December 1970).
(TENGGARA 'S NOTE).
1- dark moments of meeting
by toeti heraty
TRANSLATED BY HARRY AVELING
dark moments of meeting
sacredly seeding
in the lap of silence
razor's edge to be surpassed
lonely space to signify
recurrence of creation day
no, this is
not a meeting
but
pathos trembling withdrawing from witness,
man surrending to his single arrogance
secretly enjoying, caressing fingers,
greedily gulping
from the well of life
2- repetition
After three days and nights of love, I realize
words
will never explain
the oasis in the desert
setting out to explore life
they are reluctant to return
separated from the world by curtains
eyelashes and a circle of light
which is just strong enough
to colour part of the check
and the freshness of tears, full
of heart-warm honey
your kiss
which is he, which me, when skin alone
separates ghosted spaces
a moist cover as
crimson red caresses
press face to breast
merging in the shadow of here and there
revealing secrets and darkness
then silently finding words again
spoken pointlessly
before the world reforms
how cruel
the separation after both living in
the perfect mandala
both asking:
will the next time
be like this time
a silence of question and answer, a moment of intensity
love once coveted
followed by darkness:
black flowers
suddenly unfold in the dark
but fortunately no one sees them
3- postponement
being older
I ask no more of him
than patience
is that impossible?
because he has considered more\
done more
who knows, perhaps
a few weeks' difference at most
some time the iron city
walled in logic
will fall and the mighty current
swoop down
bringing emotion to life
starting nerves and veins
flooded in the vibration of the rainbow
although one by one, stone and tombstone
precipitated from numerous roles and actions
will stack
to stop the path
no, we must consider calmly
weigh the possibilities:
that our lives are brittle, the loss
may be too awful, murder made meaningless
this have I long known
that hopes continually arise, weaving
bright patterns, threading desires
with dreams, colouring with promises,
this is no longer strange
the walls will gently break
in the force of the incircling flood because
we will open the dam
because of that, you, because of age, and because
of knowing how the world is, must leave
the reckoning with time, allow
me to commence the sea-moon game, now
enjoy the city for a brief space
than quickly
go
TOETI HERATY
"Saat-Gelap" [Dark moments of meeting] "Sekali-sekali "[Repetition], and "Penundan"
[Postpomement] are taken from Toeti Heraty Sajak-sajak, Taman Ismail Marzuki, (Jarkata 1970).
(TENGGARA's note).
l'education sentimentale
by subagio sastrowardojo
TRANSLATED BY HARRY AVELING
to study colour
I return to the flowers
in the spring --
red, yellow, violet -- and the green
of the grass
which cracks the black earth
I learn of light
from your eyes and hair
golden, and white
from the naked sky
and from your body which I love
and from death
whiteness
I am a flying insect
driven by passion
prepared to live for a day
" l'Education Sentimentale" first appeared in Horizon, Jarkata (May 1972).
(TENGGARA ' s note).
1-asamaradana
by goenawan mohamad
TRANSLATED BY HARRY AVELING
(Darmarwulan is here taken leave of Andjasmara, before he goes to battle
the invincible Menakdjingga ub defence of her queen. Asmaradana is a Javanese
song-form resrved for song of love. One of the most popular songs has the two beautiful lines;
Karia mukti, wong aju/Kakangmas pamit palestra -- Stay and be faithful, beautiful one I love
to meeet death.)
He heard the beat of the winds of the bats and the fall of the rest
of the rain, the wind against the teak trees. He heard the restlessness
of the horses and the tug of the chariot as the sky cleared of cloud,
revealing the pale-star in the distance. Between them words were
unnecessary.
Then he spoke the separation, the death. He saw the map, fate, the
journey and a war indistinctly.
He realized she would not cry. In the morning there were footprints on
the grass in the yard, to the north. She refused to consider what had
passed and what was to come, no longer daring to do so.
Andjasmara, my love, stay , again.
The moon is covered by the wind, time ignored it.
Passing cloud and ember, you forget my face, I forget yours.
"Asmaradana' appeared in Goenawan Mohamad Pariksit, (Literia Jarkata 1971).
(TENGGARA ' s note).
2- a man murdered near the day
of the indonesian general elections
"Oh God, may I be among the elect."
When the patrol discovered the body at the edge of the rice-field
it was like the sudden silencing of a barking dog. Face down.
As if searching for the fragrance and warmth of the rice. But the
smell was strange and the cold on his cheeks unusual. The moon .
shone. Then they came -- flashlights, torches, fireflies -- but none of
them knew who he was. He is not from here, said the civil-
defence officer.
"May I be among the elect."
Beneath the hurricane lamps of the local office they found more .
wounds. The shadows shook and the veranda remained in whispers.
The man had no identity card. He had no name. He had no party.
He had no one to cry for him because we could not cary. We did
not even know what religion he was.
"O great Map-maker, where is my homeland?'
In the morning the city people read about him in the papers. Some
cried without knowing why. Others didn't, without knowing why. A
pallid child made a hat from a paper and the wind later blew it away.
See, there it goes. Into the air with the kites, masking the light.
Then the afternoon birds perched on the wires, as the geese fly
towards the twilight, past the bare plain and the lengthening
colours, like ascending smoke.
"Oh God, may I be among the elect."
GOVENAWAN MOHAMADA
"Tentang seorang yang terbunuth"[ A appeared in Horison, Jarkata , (September 1971).
(TENGGARA 's note).
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