A Warm Stored Voice
Such as whether sound that passes through
the aperture grille
Passing through the cavity space of heart
When silent night stopped
by the clock on the wall
He who pass by and pass
Or is he just running out of air conditioning
with no noise
but the cold and rheumatic fever
his wife back
Not not not it was.. or is it like the wind
that comes out of
a clarinet chamber music player
'Sono il padrino eccomi qua,
gran Messaggero in viltà ,
in fondo lascio l'onestÃ
A chi poteri non ne ha! '
Then the books whose pages fly
jump
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poem by Imam Setiaji Ronoatmojo
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Muwuno (Javanese)
(Matsnawi, Kitab kaping gangsal 65-149)
Amarganing mego muwun, tetamaning sari mapaes
Amarganing muwunipun tetimur, pangudi wentah ngalir
Ing wancinipun tetimur mangertos, ngudakara
"Kawulo muwun amrih kinasih rumekso"
Lamun siro mangertoso bilih sang Kinasih jeng binothoro?
Mboten apeparing bilih sang timur tan amemuwun
Gusti angendiko, "Tansah muwuno"
Mirengno, pangudi wentah tansah ngaliri tetamaning sari
Tangisaning mego lan panasing srengenge
Pakuning bawono, hanyengkuyung kekalihe
Bilih sirnoning mego muwun lan srengenge panas
Kadyo pundi sakabehing rumekso
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poem by Imam Setiaji Ronoatmojo
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The Song of Kanthil Flowers
perhaps my words are ragged
for love always never ragged
for years we chatted such as
the can sound which was kicked by the legs idly
in blind alleys clogged, the silence channel
the sound of the cat's mouth or fight because of lust
during the nights with expectantly
once upon time I picked kanthil flowers, want and want
i embed in your ear
or stringing gori leaves and I made a crown on your head
to lullaby of bankruptcy from full moon to full moon
although this hand was shaking and had trouble reaching
tired of soluble that prey
so where else wanted sown
to the cry earth? ?
create an extinct man in civilization
or in ditches garbage every day we meet
hearts are torn whether you like the wind go?
probably not easily met kanthil flowers
such as courtship
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poem by Imam Setiaji Ronoatmojo
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The Last Message
In this Kurusetra war, all the curtains
has been open, Yudistira
A servant of the goddess
Ganga is born, an angel of heaven
meet Santanu of human
And in it contained I
The damned Wasu
I swear there will be no sorrow curse of the Gods
For me life is to honor and love
Love is not sought, but found
There was no word of love a fenced
I am the damned Wasu
Transformed into a pure heart and the occult
Down to earth, full of stories and fabrications
Throne for me is love, Yudistira
Throne me thousands of arrows that support me
in the desert Kurusetra
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poem by Imam Setiaji Ronoatmojo
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How Are You, My Friend Who Drunk By Song?
~lp~
how are you, my friend who drunk by song?
the outside weather is not good
reluctant to leave the house
while the cable television broadcast of anxiety
perforated shipwreck
wind out of the nest with the birds
'hunt down the song let it be a poem' you said
but I can not forget
that authenticity is a rose in a vase
faithful wife whether to replace the water?
authenticity is not a pet dog
lost howled every night
but a tears every time the lovers hands who warned
sheet to be filled by daily struggle
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poem by Imam Setiaji Ronoatmojo
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Sebuah bom yang meledak bernama sunyi (Indonesian)
: Teungku Abdullah Syafii in memoriam
(1)
Bilakah ini harinya bom yang engkau lemparkan bersama
Butir udara berinteraksi memekatkan cinta
Yang dinamakan kesumat tak akan ada yang
Bisa kuperbuat kecuali
Menikam waktu dan sebuah bom yang
Meledak engkau sebut sunyi,
Dari lukakah mengalirkan darah
Yang engkau sebut cinta yang
Akhirnya menghantarkan
Pada kilatan api dalam ketiadaan,
Ketiadaan Teungku yang menemukan
Aliran darahnya, ketiadaan hamba tanpa sunyi,
Dan engkau lemparkan sunyi, engkau lemparkan
Kepada waktu:
Sebuah bom meledak bernama sunyi
Lalu aku mencatatnya dengan cinta
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poem by Imam Setiaji Ronoatmojo
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