The Proclamator's Footprint
Ende,
Isolated flower island
Is a small Soenda
Standing between three volcanoes
In the swift currents of the Indonesian Ocean currents
and the depth of the sawu sea
Ende,
In the body of your soul
I remember a name,
The name of the Indonesian proclaimer
1934, at that time
Jan Van Riebeeck moored in an old pier
After a few days sailing, against the ferocious blue storm
Then,
You put your feet
With your mother, your wife,
and your adopted child
That day also,
You made the beginning of the story
From the story of your exile
Foreign,
Maybe the word is worth saying
Because there are no relatives, here
Nor are the natives
But prisoners only
However,
You are not broken direction
Time elapsed
The days are running properly
Seconds, minutes, to hours
Also began to be friends
Now
The spy has seen your presence
The ears have heard you coming
Why are you still pondering?
1938, four years later
You make the end of your story of exile, here
On hard ground, full of tolerance between people
Tears are falling
Cultivate the flowers of sadness
Real depicted in spies
Witnessed your departure
~ Words
East 2019
Ende,
Isolated flower island
Is a small Soenda
Standing between three volcanoes
In the swift currents of the Indonesian Ocean currents
and the depth of the sawu sea
Ende,
In the body of your soul
I remember a name,
The name of the Indonesian proclaimer
1934, at that time
Jan Van Riebeeck moored in an old pier
After a few days sailing, against the ferocious blue storm
Then,
You put your feet
With your mother, your wife,
and your adopted child
That day also,
You made the beginning of the story
From the story of your exile
Foreign,
Maybe the word is worth saying
Because there are no relatives, here
Nor are the natives
But prisoners only
However,
You are not broken direction
Time elapsed
The days are running properly
Seconds, minutes, to hours
Also began to be friends
Now
The spy has seen your presence
The ears have heard you coming
Why are you still pondering?
1938, four years later
You make the end of your story of exile, here
On hard ground, full of tolerance between people
Tears are falling
Cultivate the flowers of sadness
Real depicted in spies
Witnessed your departure
~ Words
East 2019