Rhyme Of Nature

Imagine living in the world without clock. Your life lingers in the change of day and night. Seasons. A Loose concept of time.

And you will move in the rhyme of nature

Such as: you will say: "My kid born four season ago, " or "I will go to your place in the winter" or for tropical people, like us, we will say, "I will start to build my house in when the dry season starts, "

When you wake up in the morning, you know you are late for work, because the sun is right above your head, and your shadow is under you. Because your work starts after sunrise, when there is still no shadow.

Or you know, that this is the time for eat because you are hungry. Or sleep because you are sleepy.

....You wait for your lover in the park, when the moon reaches its fullest

and you make love in the crescent moon, one day in the autumn..
You are pregnant during winter and spring, and your baby born in summer
Your baby starts to talk when the banana in your backyard ripe..

And you will whisper her, someday in the future ..
"you were conceived in the crescent moon one day in autumn, you were born in the mid of summer and you start to talk when the banana in our backyard ripe,"

In the light of summer, she will always remember they day she was born
Everytime she eats banana she will remember the day she started to talk ..
And she might even try to make love in the autumn day, under the crescent moon..

What a live. I want to live like that.

And, Now, 11 am, I have to start to work..

ps: I am still on the ground honey..I know, we have to pay those damn bills.. he he..

tarian itu usai

Tarian itu sudah usai, sayang
Bagaimanapun kau menunggunya
Penarinya sudah pergi,

mendaki pelangi ..

Jakarta, Sept 19, 2006

Clenched Soul

We have lost even this twilight.
No one saw us this evening hand in hand

while the blue night dropped on the world.

I have seen from my window
the fiesta of sunset in the distant mountain tops.

Sometimes a piece of sun
burned like a coin in my hand.

I remembered you with my soul clenched
in that sadness of mine that you know.

Where were you then?
Who else was there?
Saying what?
Why will the whole of love come on me suddenly
when I am sad and feel you are far away?

The book fell that always closed at twilight
and my blue sweater rolled like a hurt dog at my feet.

Always, always you recede through the evenings
toward the twilight erasing statues.


~Pablo Neruda