Sulaiman Djaya
Calendar
Once again, layers of years are spread
upon faded and washed out ancient colors.
January comes to you, leaving behind many days
of embroidering silent, before whispers of vagueness turn into boredom.
upon faded and washed out ancient colors.
January comes to you, leaving behind many days
of embroidering silent, before whispers of vagueness turn into boredom.
But I only wish to stop by for a while
on fate that waves its hand.
Like the first night train that comes,
approaching your house.
on fate that waves its hand.
Like the first night train that comes,
approaching your house.
I only wish to stop by for a moment
at a line of rain, writing poems for you to sing,
contemplating on the dimness of a street lamp, where the dates fell off
and you start to miss your no-longer-desolate moments.
at a line of rain, writing poems for you to sing,
contemplating on the dimness of a street lamp, where the dates fell off
and you start to miss your no-longer-desolate moments.
Translating from Indonesian into English by Nikmah Sarjono
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