First Song of Magicicadas

Zzrrrrt zrrrrt zrrrrt zzzzrrrrrrt
Zzzzrrrt zrrrt rrrt rrrrt

I am in your village
to be exact beyond it
I am about to cross there

I lift up my eyes to the sky
and level them to the thatched roof
among sugar cane leaves
beyond this green revine
there where happy i've always been

and I can feel my heart's at ease
for there I know you are for me awaitin'

the ravine is wide and deep
i am walking in the path
where all have walked before
so too have the cattle, ducks and buffalos

the beige and slender sticks of bamboos
dance in a stange movement

the music is even more strange
to my ears for i am a lowland man

it goes zzrrt zrrrt zrrrt zrrrt
like millions of schoolmates putting their index finger
in front of their mouths and they pout
and hiss: sssst ssst ssst

it tickles my ears
it's the first song of the monsoon

Swept

This is a story of young mosquito, YM
call him Young
or like his enemy do, call him M

M is relaxing on the stick of a broom
in front of my room

The floor I look at
feel I need to sweep it
dirty it is, that's why

not aware of the presence M
I take the broom
to the bones, it startles M

as you can see
petit, almost black he is
him I can hardly notice

he flies, above the floor, 70 cm
now I am aware of him

He flaps lacey, untrained wings
he's doing maneuvres
in short flight
and returns, landing on the stick upright

as you can see
that's Y!
he's doing mimicry
that's why
him I can hadly see

Petit, almost black he is
his lacelike wings make me smile
for they're tiny, fragile

I decide to hit M
then hum the Requiem

This is How The Harvest Time Comes

seed thrown on a field by a man
he then goes to bed
he forgets about it

The seed sprouts
and grows
how it happens
he has no idea

without his help
The earth does it all:
first a green stem of grass
then a bud
then the ripened grain

Harvest time!

(Иногда я не могу понять, статей написанных журналистами. oni: Matfey, Mark, Luk, i Ioann)

To the Blackbird

hi, nice feathers you have! great plumage

ah, you speak back to me, dear friend?

hi yourself again now! how was the weather up there?
did you have nice breakfast?

nice voice you have

sing to me my new friend
any song for this demanding heart

before you open up your beak
please let me speak
of nice things, of nice surprise
you bring me

hi, nice feathers you have! great plumage

can i fly with you now? i'll be your entourage

sad phrase

a tear i shed
upon a word
actually two
i heard from you

sad phrase
unexpected

just remember
my heart
sad one

mean word
actually two

forced company
do aint no good

mean words
for soul aint food

(i only
plant nice
word
actually two
and harvest
nice response)

da da dum

this is how i respond the calling of blackbird
and the invitation of the sun, slipped below my door

alive

The future comes alive today
in the form of just one hand
in the fertility of this lush land

wondering if i ever have to play the instrument

wondering if i ever have to play the instrument
the way my pa lulled the tree to sleep at night
i don't have the talent like that of a man in hamelin
but let me get ir right and then i'll let you in
to sip some soup i made out of the harvest of my garden

wondering if i ever have to play the instrument
what song will i play first to the eager ears
what will pa say about my playing technique?
in the middle of the song will i lose my audience?
i know i have the voice but it don't match the instrument

la la la la la
la la la la la
la la la la la
la....

wondering if i ever have to play the instrument

plung

it ain't my business
but they name the tree after me
they name the new species
after me
like me

a joke
an honor
a joking honor

but the tree is like me
beautiful
and people are crazy
about me
about me

a joke
an honor
a honoring joke

so i let them name it after me

triumphant yet troubled

lit by expectation and the soft eastern wind
so high the feeling was, like creeping rose vine
trying to reach the poles that train it
or like a caterpillar, trying to find wisdom
in the pages of the leaves

he knows his destiny is written on the leaves

his stomach gets full yet the leaves are still
uncountable
abundant, if you will

like the insect that clings to the single vine
so my heart knows you're there
ever touchable
sometimes think that's unfair

but i conquer the urge to find wisdom
in your habitat, your kingdom
let alone your closet of fashion

he don't own the vine he's clinging to
like my heart--invisibly--clings to you
but whose heart owns yours?
whose eyes gaze at yours?

my hope for you is ever blooming
my hope for you is ever bloooooming

yeah
yeah
yeah

unlike the caterpillar, i understand the meaning of abundance
i will dance dance and dance around the table
then i will above this garden transcend

the meaning of abundance

yeah
yeah

Sniff Sniff

I love the smell of:
essential oil in orange peel
Biasa store
Apple shampoo
Kefir lime
Lemon grass
Fresh cut grass sprinkled with heavy rain drops
Fresh from the oven breads
Arabica coffee powder
Freshly crushed mint leaves
Gas station
Synthetic melon essence
Basil, especially basil leaves with sambal Unyil’s Mom prepared to us eat
with that mysterious white-meated fish
Sambal Mami made for us to eat that golden brown scaly smoked fish
Crushed young guava shoots
Kuah bakso, so spicy esp that with clove and lots of pepper powder
Fried capsicum (after the sneeze inducing phase)
Fried garlic
And lots more

Пастораль

K человеку, который пробуждал мою тоскy
Мою сентиментальность, меланхолию

Во имя красоты природы, Monsieur
Ваши прекрасные слова, я слушаю

Сезон он хорошо знал их:
Тепло весны, кокетливый Святоянский ночи
И осень, которaя всегда поздно пришла
Он сказал, "Зимa знает все радости"

Поэт, который был 38 весны
Oн нарисовал идеальное изображение
В моей голове
Он нарисовал все, со словами:
Олень, лошадь, медведь, луговые
Акация, береза, вишня, река
Смородина, поток, море
Ферме, сирень, Levisticum officinalis

Великий поэт—натуралист!

Он научил меня любить
Он сказал, любовь—олень

Любовь—цветок
Любовь—pанный весный дождь
(Он любил румяные щеки)
Он знал каждый плод земли
Он говорил о них как старые друзья

K человеку, который пробуждал мою тоскy
Мою сентиментальность, меланхолию
Для вас мой стеклo поднимаю! Salute!

(SemSa)

Pretty in Pink

Drooping flowers in pink
looking inviting
yet for a bee like me
i know they bear
no single drop of nectar

they're pink! pink!
and the whole meadow summoned
to the foot of the mountain
that early morning
when pines only served as screen

fuchsia a mantid friend said
to the sniffing felis
but to me i recognised no such name
it's a color too said him

the entire congregation
decided to make a notion
that the owl should speak
a word of wisdom

ask the ash crow
for it will show
it always says i not know
anything that it does more

i was about to open my beak
but then i remembered this
an empty stomach is far more important
to fill than to negate this
and end as the breakfast
of the sniffing felis

Beestung Lips

I bought this lip balm and thought this was a nice surprise. it mixes castor oil plant, candelilla, shea nut, almond, jojoba, and grapes. and when i applied it on my lips and twas like stung by bee.

O traveler

away from home
from the warmth of the nest
but the bird likes it best
and even forgets where it is
she feels it belongs
to the very land it perches on

that it eats many
and makes friends with many
makes me happy

do I set it free?
i asked me

my heart said
i never keep it caged
that his eye is on it
it can eat many
and be happy

here I end the story
I care not if it returns to me
as long as it eats many
flips its wings and swings
and be on and on happy

Pastorelle

ascended every morning
sent prayer through the ceiling
though heart heavy with uncertain feelings
to greet the bright orange sky

but her heart nobody knew
did it dwell in the land
where she held hope in hand?
or did it smile
when she was many a mile
away from her homeland?

the weeds she mowed
faster than did cows
fetched water in metal jug
atop her head
when she moved down in small steps?

slowly the water spilled
as she stepped down the hill
and the unborn baby forgot something
a scene unseen from his memory

(for the only thing he saw
was a scene in a flash of light
a flying angel view
from the white clouds
he saw him and the woman
on a boat, rowing
and it felt a hand pushed him
to the light
and that was him then
face to face with death
in curtain)

she did it with heavy heart
that every drip counted
oh what was that?
asked the unborn baby

ascended every morning
sent prayer through the ceiling
to greet the bright orange sky

but her heart nobody knew
it dwelt not in the land
where she held hope in hand
but it did smile
when she was many a mile
away from her homeland



(MamePb10)

Ship and Court

All you fear is black and white?
think of it, son
the beauty of it

and the skin is still unfed
but I come to know your grace

the baby step to greater happiness

the meaning stays true
even if I left the zoo earlier





(Dona, Jenni and Sem rode bike last Saturday at Ragunan)

Garden Impostor

быть неблагодарным -- страшных, с этого момента, я должен сосредоточиться на том, что я имею а не то, что другие.

Мне необходимо перейти на вашем саду чаще.

Сэм

The Autumn Song

that's eight years ago that i had this in mind and certainly
was so sure to collect sum. I was so sure and when one is
'oppressed' he/she can only do one thing.
and i wasn't too proud to beg hahaha

even oom Dan showed concerns and added a 110 dm bonus.
Adis recalled it vividly as she rang me just two days before
i left for the place where the previous currency i see no more.

even when Paragita didn't make it to Linz, we din lose hope for we
managed to stage a concert,
one that i could have been more in to it.
the concert was called Seasons and Flowers.

So it started kicking with the joyful Ritter Fruhling
and how Benjamin Britten's Five Flower songs
made their way to the repertoire is still unthinkable for me
hahaha. indeed they sound nice, it was just me who
was not into his five particular songs.
they still sound weird to my ears.
my faves: Ritter Fruhling and Herbstlied.
I stupidly lost the partita (perhaps I gave it to Ray)

besides Ritter Fruhling, this song i
sang all day there (Herbstlied by Felix Mendelssohn)

Holder Lenz, du bist dahin!
Nirgends, nirgends darfst du bleiben!
Wo ich sah dein frohes Blühn,
Braust des Herbstes banges Treiben.
 
Wie der Wind so traurig fuhr
Durch [den Strauch], als ob er weine;
Sterbeseufzer der Natur
Schauern durch die welken Haine.
 
Wieder ist, wie bald! wie bald!
Mir ein Jahr dahingeschwunden.
Fragend rauscht es aus dem Wald:
"Hat dein Herz sein Glück gefunden?"
 
Waldesrauschen, wunderbar
Hast du mir das Herz getroffen!
Treulich bringt ein jedes Jahr
[Welkes Laub und welkes] Hoffen.
neues Laub wie neues Hoffen

I asked a friend to translate it, and back then James gave
the best pronunciation in the world.
I love the last verse:

Forest noise, wonderful
How you have taken my heart!
....
new leaves like new hope


my heart bows to melancholic tunes with
hopeful lines hahahaa

это то, что я благодарен за

это то, что я благодарен за:
два черных птиц, летевший
лиса ходить в середине трав
два кролики вблизи взлетно-посадочной полосы
и золотой восход
первая посадка во Франкфурте

and I only remember it this morning!