Dear all,
I have moved most of the contents of my blog to other address. As from this moment, this blog would be inactive.
If you would like to read on, please check out:
http://desiyanti.multiply.com [English Poetry-sorry, for the time being unaccessable, some kind of technical problem I need to sort out]
http://d-yanti.blogspot.com -or- http://desiyanti.wordpress.com [other writings in Indonesia]
Thank you.
harap tiba tiba menyapa malam ini,
kedipnya genit --- seperti kerlip kica kica.
ingin kutangkap kilaunya,
untuk kusimpan di botol kaca;
tapi ia terlalu gesit mengelak,
terlalu cepat mengepak sayap sayap mungilnya.
harap tiba tiba menyapa malam ini,
gesit mengepak sayap, ia terbang lagi.
~ ~ ~
21 oktober 2007 ; 19.23
i am...
nowhere.
no where
n o w h e r e
n o / w h e r e
/ n / o / w / h / e / r / e /
n o w / h e r e
n o w h e r e
now here
i am:
now. here.
~ ~ ~
19 october 2007 ; 08.44
saat senja tinggal sedepa, kukoyak secarik jingga
: bercorak saputan lembayung mega. warna cinta
yang selalu ada, walau tercabik menjadi luka.
lelaki senja, malam t'lah tiba. tak perlu gundah,
cinta tak sirna. petang kita meredup pelan,
kelam malam biar kujelang sendirian.
~ ~ ~
20 september 2007 ; 22.58
Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine,
et lux perpetua luceat eis.
Te decet hymnus, Deus, in Sion,
et tibi reddetur votum in Jerusalem.
Exaudi orationem meam,
ad te omnis caro veniet.
Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine,
et lux perpetua luceat eis.
Grant them eternal rest, O Lord,
and may perpetual light shine on them.
Thou, O God, art praised in Sion,
and unto Thee shall the vow
be performed in Jerusalem.
Hear my prayer, unto Thee shall all flesh come.
Grant them eternal rest, O Lord,
and may perpetual light shine on them.
Kyrie eleison.
Christe eleison.
Kyrie eleison.
Lord, have mercy upon us.
Christ, have mercy upon us.
Lord, have mercy upon us.
Lacrimosa dies illa
qua resurget ex favilla
judicandus homo reus.
Huic ergo parce, Deus,
pie Jesu Domine,
dona eis requiem.
Amen...
Mournful that day
when from the dust shall rise
guilty man to be judged.
Therefore spare him, O God,
merciful Jesu, Lord
grant them rest.
Amen...
Domine, Jesu Christe, Rex gloriae,
libera animas omnium fidelium defunctorum
de poenis inferni, et de profundo lacu:
libera eas de ore leonis,
ne absorbeat eas tartarus, ne cadant in obscurum,
sed signifier sanctus Michael
repraesentet eas in lucem sanctam,
quam olim Abrahae promisisti
et semini ejus.
Lord Jesus Christ, King of glory,
deliver the souls of all the faithful
departed from the pains of hell and from the bottomless pit:
deliver them from the lion’s mouth,
neither let them fall into darkness
nor the black abyss swallow them up.
And let St. Michael, Thy standard-bearer,
lead them into the holy light
which once Thou didst promise
to Abraham and his seed.
Hostias et preces, tibi, Domine,
laudis offerimus;
tu suscipe pro animabus illis,
quarum hodie memoriam facimus:
fac eas, Domine, de morte transire ad vitam,
quam olim Abrahae promisisti
et semini ejus.
We offer unto Thee this sacrifice
of prayer and praise;
receive it for those souls
whom today we commemorate:
allow them, O Lord, to cross
from death into the life
which once Thou didst promise to Abraham
and his seed.
Sanctus, Sanctus, Sanctus,
Dominus Deus Sabaoth!
Pleni sunt coeli et terra gloria tua.
Osanna in excelsis.
Holy, holy, holy,
Lord God of Sabaoth!
Heaven and earth are full of Thy glory.
Hosanna in the highest.
Benedictus qui venit in nomine Domini.
Osanna in excelsis.
Blessed is He who cometh in the name of the Lord.
Hosanna in the highest.
Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi,
dona eis requiem.
Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi,
dona eis requiem sempiternam.
Lamb of God, who takest away the sins of the world,
grant them rest.
Lamb of God who takest away the sins of the world,
grant them everlasting rest.
Lux aeterna luceat eis, Domine,
cum sanctis tuis in aeternum,
quia pius es.
Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine,
et lux perpetua luceat eis,
cum sanctis tuis in aeternum,
quia pius es.
May eternal light shine on them, O Lord,
with Thy saints for ever,
because Thou art merciful.
Grant the dead eternal rest, O Lord,
and may perpetual light shine on them,
with Thy saints for ever,
because Thou art merciful.
~ ~ ~
Requiem:
Introitus (Requiem);
Kyrie;
Sequentia (Lacrimosa);
Offertorium (Domine Jesu; Domine Hostias);
Sanctus;
Benedictus;
Agnus Dei;
Communio (Lux Aeterna).
From the work of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (1756 – 1791);
completed by Franz Xaver Sussmayr (1766-1803).
1 March 2007; 00:00 AM
...Requiem for the Sacrificed Innocent...
~ ~ ~
In trutina mentis dubia
fluctuant contraria
lascivus amor et pudicitia.
Sed eligo quod video,
collum iugo prebeo:
ad iugum tamen suave transeo.
I am suspended
between love
and chastity.
But I choose
what is before me:
and take upon myself the sweet yoke.
~~~
27 February 2007; 01:21 PM
“There’s a dragon nesting on that cliff,” the woman said to me. She looked at the mountains longingly, like a maiden yearning for her lover. “I saw him once; he’s so grand and fiery.”
“There’s no dragon. Dragons are not real, they’re just fairy-tale.” I told her harshly.
She looked hurt, “But it’s true. I spoke to him.”
I snorted, “Right. What did you say to him?”
“We spoke of many things, and I love him,” she whispered sadly.
I laughed so hard my stomach hurts, “Why! You’ve got to be joking. He’d burn and eat you before you say one word. That is if it’s real. But I told you before: dragons are not real.”
“It’s true; why would I lie to you? I was walking up the hills, looking for herbs and wild flowers when the dragon flew so low. His eye was wounded by a silver arrow, and I helped him. I took care of his wound, dressed it with the mountain herbs: the ancient knowledge of my clan. And we talked, the dragon and I. I soothed his pain and he was gentle and kind.” The woman sighed, she looked so sad that I had no heart to scold her for lying so terribly.
“We talked through the night and I comforted him. As I got to know him, and finding how gentle he was, I begun to love him. I gave him my body, I gave him my soul. I love the dragon as I never loved any man.” The woman smiles; she smiles at a distant memory. Down in the depth of mind I could never venture to see.
“Days came and days went, the dragon’s wound has healed and he had to fly again. So he flew, he told me he had to be free. He told me he had to soar high in the sky. I was heart broken; I know I have no place in his world. I have no wings; I have no means to fly like him.” A tear trickled down her cheek, “So there he goes; he flew so high, his wings spread so majestically. I looked at him as long as I could. He flew so high and the sun blinded me.”
I found myself listening to her story intently without meaning it, I do believe this woman is mad, but I wish to know how her story would end.
“Weeks passed, child; and I thought of the dragon every night and every day. Wishing someday he would come back for me, take me to his nest up on the mountains; and perhaps we could be together forever. But he never came back for me. Instead, I heard news that the dragon had kidnapped a princess from a high castle in the northern cities. My heart was crushed; but then again, what am I to him? I’m only a simple maiden, I am worthy of nothing. The dragon kidnapped the princess and took her to his nest. The lord-father of the princess was so furious; he called his banner-men to take his daughter back. A great host of army marched to fight the dragon, and at the end they managed to take back the princess. They could not kill my dragon, of course; he’s so strong. But they wounded him so badly.
“Half crippled and badly hurt, the dragon sought me. I came to him, I healed his wounds. I nursed him lovingly, soothed his injuries. I loved him into strength again, hoping silently that he would also love me. I asked for nothing else from him; nothing but his love.”
She wept softly, “But he never loved me… I healed his wounds, and gave him back his strength. He thanked me, but he told me to stay away from his life. He told me he cared about me, but he doesn’t want me. He told me to leave him alone.
“’But you sought me when you were wounded…’ I said; ‘I did not seek you,’ the dragon said, ‘I only seek to heal.’ I was crushed, my love healed him, but he denied me. The dragon warned me never to come to the mountains to seek him. He warned me to stay as far away from him as I could. He told me I am unworthy of him; that only a princess should be his bride and prize. He threatened me, that if I ever went to the mountains for him he would burn me with his fire.
“I could not believe what I heard. After all I did for him he threw me away like a ragged doll. I am nothing for him… I am nothing for him…”
The woman wept bitterly. I pity her for the pain she had to endure, but I could do nothing for her. She must be positively insane.
~ ~ ~
27 January 2007; 11:24 PM. Heart-broken and hurt so badly. Uninvited to the dragon’s-nest. Feeling like a trash.
~ ~ ~
~~~
What is freedom?
Freedom is the courage to make a choice and live by the consequences of our actions.
Total acceptance of all inevitables.
~~~
~~~
The essence of Strength
is not how loud you could shout
not how hard you could punch
not how high you could keep your pride up.
The essence of Strength
is about keeping your head cool
and your temper under control.
So you'll know when to strike
and when to fall back
as you face the worst
at the gate of darkness.
~~~
A woman weep on the TV screen. Lamenting the fate of her husband, convicted as a terrorist, awaiting death on the hand of the righteous law enforcer. "He's innocent," she wailed between her sobs. "He's my husband." The picture changed, a man in expensive suit with a boring tie. "It's decided," he declared, "Justice must be served." The anchor woman pop in with a plastic smile, announcing another message of grave importance. Floods, catasthropes, war, human idiocy. They call it news, these tragedies. They believe we need to know.
They told us about this war in distant lands, they move us to do something about it. They call us to act, to go beyond the great sea and fight this war of strangers. Solidarity, brotherhood, justice: their words of wisdom. They forgot one more, though: violence. It’s the core of their actions. Violence, they breath with it, live with it, can do nothing without it. They can’t help it, this cluster of manhood we call ‘human race’. Violence, it’s their language of ‘truth’.
It’s funny, really, the way they define their values. They’re enraged by the news of strangers died in their faraway lands. They rush out to help, to defend those strangers with whom they never shared earth and waters and blood. Promising God’s heaven to anyone naïve enough to listen (what right do they have, promising something that’s not even theirs to offer?). But when they heard of their own sisters wronged so far away from home, the only word of justice they cried out is silence.
And I thought of a bitter debate I had some time ago, when the same righteous people fought to ban abortion, when they forcefully condemned abortion and calling it evil, calling it murder. Where are they now, as the death penalty hover around demanding it’s toll? Why wouldn’t they call it murder? Why wouldn’t they call it evil?
They believe they’re righteous, these people of values. They blinded their eyes to the double standard upon which they build their values—be it as glaringly obvious as it is. They care not about our own sisters who work as TKW being wronged. They care not of the murders performed by our own so-called law. They care not about the violence of neglect continually done by our own government. They care for nothing but their own values... they cannot feel nor see the hollow emptiness within those values.
So here I am, weeping for their blindness, weeping for their vast majority, weeping for my helplessness to make a change.
Are you willing to be sponged out, erased, cancelled,
made nothing?
Are you willing to be made nothing?
dipped into oblivion?
If not, you will never really change.
The phoenix renews her youth
only when she is burnt, burnt alive, burnt down,
to hot and flocculent ash.
Then the small stirring of a new small bub in the nest
with strands of down like floating ash
Shows that she is renewing her youth like the eagle
Immortal bird.
~A shred of truth I found in D.H.Lawrence's poem.
A midnight phone-call startled me awake. A friend on the other end, her voice sodden with restrained tears. "He pushed me away," she sobbed, "He said he needed some space, but I don’t know. Something’s wrong… Well, everything’s gone wrong… I don’t know what I did, he just pushed me away. Everything I did was wrong… no matter what I did… nothing is right. What happened? I don’t understand…"
There’s nothing I could say, really. No consolation came in mind, no soothing words. Nothing, really. I suppose I could ramble about with something like "Just hang in there," or "Come, now, think positively, maybe he just had a lot in his mind," or "Well, just leave him, then!" I knew by some hard-learned lessons that no wisdom would be wise enough for her right now. So I just lied there on my bed listening, struggling to stay awake.
The story begun like any other classic love-story. A chance encounter. Small flirty talk. Exchanged phone numbers. Some other flirty talk. Other dreamlike encouters. And it struck, as forceful as ever: Love. An over-the-fence, out-of-the-field, fiery-passionate-unbehaving Love. So the story goes… until that fateful moment…
For some relationship it could be another uninvited person suddenly appeared out of the blue. For another it could be boredom, a ghost of ex-lover, career, geography, you name it. But the point is there would (almost) certainly come that moment when the chemistry expired, the opiate effect fades, the rose-coloured glass shattered with a crash.
It’s a phenomenon not unlike the eclipse, when the light changed into a darker shade and suddenly everything looks different. Those playful-sarcasms once considered amusing became annoying, or those coffee talks once enlightening became certain sources for violent arguments. The fiery attitude once taken as a strength of character became a frightening threat of assault. Frequent phone-calls or e-mails or SMS' once happily anticipated became a terror. I wish I could make my poor friend see this, in the eclipse of the heart, everything goes wrong, even for the right people.
So who's to blame? The person we're with? Love? The national inflation? Global terrorism? Well, I'm afraid there's no correct answer for that. Maybe love has faded, or changed into something else, or maybe it was never been there at all. And there’s nothing anyone can do about it.
Of course not every relationship destroyed by this. Human being evolve—hopefully into a better creature, both in shape and in character. Love, as human feeling and emotion, evolves with the person. Sometimes it evolved into friendship, sometimes into mutual contentment. In some cases love evolved into hatred or fear. I dare myself to believe that the love we carry within our heart shall evolve into whatever shape we choose for it. We could shape it into a deeper understanding for the person we’re with. We could shape it into caution and fear. We could shape it into sharp critics or judgment. Love could turn into whatever we want it to become. Because the most important element in a love story is the individual. Not the situation, not the past or the future, not our peer. No one and nothing but ourselves.
Unfortunately for a self-proclaimed naïve-romantic like myself and some others, not very many people realize that the love they have for their companion evolve into whatever they choose. Too many people blame their changing feelings to other 
elements outside themselves. Some blames it on their companions, others choose to hide behind an unfortunate situation or unsupporting peer. Once I met a person who choose to believe that a past relationship is much more important than the present one (ever heard someone said "If you can’t get along with my ex, you are free to go,"?). I personally think this particular person hides the inability to nurture the relationship behind an over-glorified past-romance. This person has failed to see that the past is just a memory, agreeably important as one’s history but absolutely trivial compared to one’s present life.
If—in a distant chance—I could say all this to my dear heart-broken friend, perhaps she’d say “But it takes two to tango. I tried my best, but what about him?” And she has a point. In a lot of relationships, we could not expect our companion to have the same ideas, or to give the same amount of effort in the relationship as we do. What can I say, it’s their choice to be—to hide behind any self-justified reasons not to give their best effort. But there’s a lesson to learn in any story, both the joyful and the sorrowful. Then perhaps the lesson was meant to be learned by us and not the other. After all, some things has never written in the sky. All we could do just learn the lesson, be content that we took the chance and effort so that when we looked back someday, hopefully we have no regret for whatever turned out to be because we knew we’ve given our best. Just weep if it’s necessary, and listen to that 80’s heart-broken ballad :
" … once upon a time I was falling in love,
now I’m only falling apart.
Nothing I could do for total eclipse of the heart…
Once upon a time there was light in my life,
now there’s only love in the dark.
Nothing I could say for total eclipse of the heart… "
[Bonie Tyller, “Total Eclipse of the Heart”]
Just remember, don’t mourn too long. Life awaits.
Some people believe in angels, some people don't. Me myself, I just happen to believe in angels. Some time ago, a friend asked me, "Do you believe that angels have wings? I mean, it's not that you've seen that they do, right?" At the time I just smiled, I personally thought he missed the point of this whole wings business.
Art often depicted angels as creatures with wings, because wings are the symbol of limitlessness. Boundlessness. And as heralds of The Lord, winged angels represent the idea that nothing’s impossible for God.
So… do you still have to see to believe? Because you know, sometimes you see things with your eyes. Other time, you see things with your heart.
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