Poems In Translation: Puisi-puisi Saut Situmorang di The Prague Revue

1966

di malam aku lahir

bulan merah api

dan hujan turun

langit merah basah

bumi merah basah

orang orang menangis

orang orang marah

dan orang orang ketakutan

di malam aku lahir

anjing anjing setan gentayangan di jalanan

mendobrak rumah rumah

dan membunuh dan membunuh dan membunuh

bulan merah api

malam merah api

rumah rumah dicat merah darah

jalanan merah darah

sungai sungai merah darah

danau danau merah darah

dan mayat mayat rusak terapung

di sungai sungai danau danau merah darah

di bawah hujan merah darah

di malam aku lahir

1966

the night I was born

the moon turned out fire red

and the rain’s falling

the sky was soaked red

the earth was soaked red

people were crying

people were angry

and people were frightened

the night I was born

Satan's dogs roamed the streets

smashing into houses

and killing and killing and killing

the moon was fire red

the night was fire red

the houses painted blood red

the streets blood red

the rivers blood red

the lakes blood red

and corpses floating

under the blood red rain

the night I was born

kata dalam telinga

ada sebuah tangga menuju ke atap

di mana burung burung merpati membangun sarangnya

cukup kuat

untuk melindungi

bawah perut yang lembut

terbuat dari renda renda dan daging otot

hairspray dan air ludah

20 kaki di atas kepala kita

jauh seperti sebuah perahu mengapung

seperti wayar wayar lembut lentur

montok seperti oyster

kalung bulu dan tulang di leher

berlayar antara bulan dan bintang bintang

di air halusinasi di atas bukit orang mati

seperti Pinocchio

main film biru di bawah meja kantor

demi eloquence

di dinding alfabet

bukan batu giok

dalam truk sampah

do you read me?

ada sebuah tangga menuju ke atap

sebuah rumah berjendela hitam

di mana kami mengubur laundry kotormu

biar kami bisa cerita hal hal yang baik saja tentang dirimu

bocah kemaren sore

yang berhenti percaya pada tuhan

yang berkata, “kalau tuhan itu pemabuk

aku tak perlu minum alkohol!”

ayolah

ada sebuah tangga menuju ke atap

di mana burung burung merpati membangun sarangnya

sebelum musim dingin tiba

dengan botol botol susu beku dalam kotak surat

yang sedang diukiri tetanggaku dengan pahat

sambil berkata, “cuka dipakai di zaman Sebelum Masehi

sebagai spermicide-a pessary!”

“caranya, dicelupkan ke dalam,

mungkin menyengat sedikit!”

ada sebuah tangga menuju ke atap

di mana burung burung merpati membangun sarangnya

sebelum musim dingin tiba

ya, musim dingin akan indah tahun ini

dengan televisi televisi bisu membaca

bibirnya sendiri dengan logat Inggris

menghembuskan kesunyian kesunyian panjang

untuk menghangatkan diri

e hoa ma! o sobat

belut perut perak adalah yang terbaik untuk dikeringkan!

jadi waktu pemain sax

membuka lagunya

seperti minum

kita tak punya pilihan lain

kita mesti mengikuti

boneka boneka Gringo

ke mana burung burung merpati membangun sarangnya

waktu arah angin berubah

dan mengikutimu masuk ke dalam kegelapan pikiran

candi penuh ular

candi dewi ular

dewi birahi orang orang pagan

candi 13 warna biru

biru airmata, biru rasa rindu

biru hijau cemburu

biru palung dalam, biru bumi

biru cinta, biru cermin kaca

biru nostalgia, biru bahaya

biru tipu, biru napsu

biru kehilangan, biru kematian

ada sebuah tangga menuju ke atap

di mana matahari jadi lebih berarti

di mana hantu seseorang yang dulu kau cintai

seseorang kepada siapa dulu kau selalu berkata “karenamu aku selalu kesepian”

berbisik padamu dalam bahasa Morse

“pandanglah aku sekarang. aku kembali untuk menghantuimu!”

Valhalla nampak

begitu jauh

seperti bola bola golf

para businessman bangsa Jepang

yang sedang menghapal percakapan Inggris-Zen

“hi, I’m Richard Taylor

and so are you!”

ada sebuah tangga menuju ke atap

seperti sebuah gantungan baju dari logam

tergantung tanpa baju

sexual pleasure

on empty roads

sebuah daun gugur

Jumat

adalah hari yang paling kejam dalam seminggu

berat

tailor-made

terbuat dari pecahan pecahan kaca halte bis kota

old talk

sebuah café

sebuah pekerjaan tetap

ada sebuah tangga menuju ke atap

di mana dua burung Enggang mengitari tiang totem tua

di mana burung burung merpati membangun sarangnya

seperti sebuah Big Mac

oleh Picasso

datanglah kalian wahai para hantu

yang menjaga pikiran pikiran duniawi

hantu hantu sebuah tangga menuju ke atap

atap perak atap kaca atap burung burung

atap sayap sayap kupu kupu patah

hitam, putih, dan multiwarna

dan beruap seperti onggokan onggokan tahi sapi

di pagi kota Te Puke yang dingin

datanglah kalian wahai para hantu pemilik hak cipta

seni yang palsu, immoral, angkuh, dan penuh tipu

aku tak bertanggung jawab atas sajak ini!

tongue in your ear

there’s a staircase which leads to the roof

where pigeons build their nests

tough enough

to protect

the soft underbelly

made from lace and sinew

hairspray and spit

20 feet above our heads

far away like a boat adrift

like soft tensile wires

plump as an oyster

garlands of feather and bone

navigating by moon and stars

in the hallucinating waters above the hill o death

like Pinocchio

doing kinky things with red tape

for eloquence

on alphabet walls

not *greenstone

in a garbage truck

do you read me?

there’s a staircase which leads to the roof

of a house of black windows

where we bury your dirty laundry

so we could say nice things about you

yesterday’s baby

who stopped believing in God

who said, “If God were a drunkard,

I’d have no need to drink!”

come on

there’s a staircase which leads to the roof

where pigeons build their nests

before winter comes

with frosted milk-bottles in the letter box

which my neighbour is carving with a chisel

while saying, “Vinegar was used in B.C. times

as a spermicide - a pessary.

It was sponged on-in,

probably stings a bit!”

there’s a staircase which leads to the roof

where pigeons build their nests

before winter comes

yes, winter will be beautiful this year

with muted television reads

its own lips with an American accent

breathing out long silences

to keep warm

**e hoa ma! o friends!

silver bellies are the best eels for drying!

so when the sax player

opens his song

like drinking

we have no choice

we have to follow

the Gringo puppets

to where the pigeons build their nests

when the wind changes

and follows you into the darkness of thoughts

a temple full of snakes

of snake goddess

the pagan goddess of lust

of 13 degrees of blue

the blue of tears, the blue of longing

the jealous blue of green

the blue of the fathoms, the blue of the earth

the blue of love, the blue of mirrors

the blue of nostalgia, the blue of danger

the blue of deceit, the blue of lust

the blue of loss, the blue of death

there’s a staircase which leads to the roof

where the sky becomes more important

where the ghost of someone you used to love

someone you used to say “because of you I’m always alone” to

whispers in Morse

“Look at me now. I’ve come to haunt you!”

Valhalla seems

so far away

like the golf balls

of Japanese businessmen

who are memorizing Zen-English

“Hi, I’m Richard Taylor

and so are you!”

there’s a staircase which leads to the roof

like a metal coathanger

hanging unclothed

sexual pleasure

on empty roads

a leaf falls

Friday

is the cruellest day of the week

is heavy

is tailor-made

made of smashed bus-stop glass

old talk

a café

a real job

there’s a staircase which leads to the roof

where two hornbill birds circle the ancient totem pole

where pigeons build their nests

like a Big Mac

by Picasso

come ye o spirits

that tend on mortal thoughts

spirits of a staircase which leads to the roof

roof of silver, glass, birds

of broken butterfly wings

white, black and multicoloured

and steaming like cowpats on frosty ***Te Puke mornings

come ye o spirits, owners of copyright

of false, immoral, conceited and deceitful Art

I do not accept responsibility for this poem!

Notes:

*greenstone is a kind of jade found in New Zealand, considered sacred by the Maoris

**e hoa ma! is a Maori phrase meaning “o friends!”

*** Te Puke is the name of a small town in North Island, New Zealand. Famous as the capital city of kiwi-fruit

Saut Situmorang was born on 29 Juni 1966 in Tebing Tinggi, North Sumatera province, Indonesia, but was raised in its capital Medan. Spent eleven years (1989-2000) as an immigrant in New Zealand where he did his BA in English Literature and MA in Indonesian Literature. He was also actively involved in the underground poetry readings in New Zealand and was awarded several prizes for his English-language poetry, such as the Original Composition Prize from Victoria University of Wellington and the Blues Award from the University of Auckland. Since 2000 returned to Indonesia and now lives in the city of Yogyakarta as a full-time writer. Widely published in newspapers and literary magazines all over Indonesia, he has published three books of poems and a book of literary essays. His Indonesian-language poems and short story had been translated into English, Italian, Czech, French and German. He is one of the pioneers of Internet Literature in Indonesia and at present is one of the editors of the Indonesian underground literary journal boemipoetra. In 2005-2007 he was the Literature curator for the Festival Kesenian Yogyakarta (Yogyakarta Arts Festival). He was one of the curators for What Is Poetry?: International Poetry Festival Indonesia 2012. A familiar name in the literary scene in Indonesia, in early November 2012 he was invited to the book-launch of a selection of his poems translated into French at the Unesco House, Paris, France. In June 2013 he is invited to read his poems at Poetry On The Road in Bremen, Germany. Writing in both Indonesian and English languages, a sample of his English-language poems can be read at http://sautsitumorang.blogspot.com/ while his poetry reading recordings are documented at http://soundcloud.com/saut-situmorang

Sumber http://praguerevue.com/ViewArticle?articleId=3904