BY ZAHID M. NASER,
TRANSLATED FROM MALAY
BY PAULINE FAN
Read by the author
You come again, Michael
when the throat of my spirit is tormented
you make me wild undergrowth and you burn. . .
leaving behind only a rose in the ash of your
wing-roots, Michael, imperious
not low like the wings of a dove, you have spread them here to find me.
What is it you like, Michael?
with that strange laugh of yours
sneering like a crazed warrior?
you bear me and my fingers away
under the sombre shadow of frangipani
till the break of day – it brings no radiance,
only despair, a cup of the city’s mulberry
and a single line of a frail poet.
MIKAIL, KAU DATANG LAGI
Mikail, kau datang lagi
saat tenggorok batinku tersiksa
dan kau buatku jadi belukar, dan kau bakar
kau hanya tinggalkan sekuntum mawar di abu banir
sayapmu Mikail, angkuh benar
tak serendah kepak merpati, dan kau biar terbentang
menemukanku di sini.
Apa Mikail kau suka?
dengan tawa asingmu itu
menyeringai layak seorang perajurit gila?
aku dan jemariku kau sisihkan
di bawah redup bayang kemboja
sehingga terbit mentari – tak meluah sinar
hanya membawa nestapa, secawan mulberi kota
dan sebaris puisi penyair kurus.