SOMETHING LEFT ON THE GRANDMA’S EYELID (Puisi Niken Kinanti di buku dual bahasa)

SOMETHING LEFT ON THE GRANDMA’S EYELID

Into how much this year. Just fatigue and sleep not sooner brood the cold

In your blanket, Grandma. Wound about time, about the deliquency of your son who also has grown old.

Whitened like you too. Often, your fatigue been paid.

Together with the growth of eggplant purple flowers and a piece of rope that bridging

Coconut as a second backbone

Grandma, I am your grandson who miss you mad me

If your words are a bit spicy in the eat, then the next day I will desist with bit retaliation

I never want to wake up in the morning

Although you wake me up many times. Always,

Each holiday I spent with you in the land of fields deserted,

Then you tell stories about women’s dream

Who want to be a leader in puppetry.

I chose to became a Srikandi, Grandma.

And you did not like my choice at that time. Even though you do not like

With my choice, you’re still giving me a bed of watermelon

That I be allowed to spend with my friends in the afternoon

I fixed your first grandchild, your nurture when I was child

You pick aback every morning with jarik that patterned a broken machete

And then, on Thursday morning you breathe heavily,

With feet were still warm

Hair with pandanus coil and light purple patterned kebaya

There something is left in your eye lids. The compassion, crying tears that I couldn’t translate. And I always believe,

What’s left in your eyelids,

A sign you’ve never been blessed in the other world,

Where you did not have to worry about the purple eggplant that you harvest every week

Grandma, your grandchild was homesick...