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

Monday 17 February 2014

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

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