cities turn leafless. days turn evil. shewolf specters rise between ruins. no more yearning. nothing but moss and embers keep me company all day every day. death bells barrage me, and i run amok. fire devours my clothes my both hands my unkempt hair. i run and i scream and i…
This is one of the most frequently recited poems in Indonesia–mostly during peaceful protests, albeit only the last line. There are a number of English translations out there (such as this one, or this one by Max Lane[?]), but let me take part in celebrating this poem. The poet, Wiji Thukul,…
the night when i was born the moon was fire red the rain was pouring down the sky was soaking red the earth was soaking red people were crying people were angered and they were terrified the night when i was born the jackals roamed the streets the jackals banged the doors…
you’re a long drought that brings only deaths to leaves, to flowers, to fish in the rivers in our beloved town. since you’re a drought, our tears will moisten the earth, transform into vapors, then rise up to the clouds. you’ll hear us as thunders and rain as…
in my city which never tastes your hot lips night falls and blackens all streets are nothing but tarred lines drained out of moisture of rain the lust of seasons and words are dispelled to baked hills where dead things are buried. and moon shadows paint more silence and…
cold unregisteredon the thermometer city’s all drenched wind along the rivershoos us away but we hold firm like shower’s goneand lights afloatteasing colors god why all this joy1971
