"On Flying", Lune Loh
a translation of Raimi Safari's "Dan Lalu Ia Terbang"
Maybe it's because you're like the sun.
And it shall be here where I stay,
weave pigeon wings
until I can carry the burdens of the self,
approaching you every morning.
This dream, alike a box with beauty-in-beauty, burdens.
And in my dream of flying later,
flashed a murmur in my heart,
the cruel scorching warmth of your love
shall melt, bead by bead, this candle of a wing.
But can I stop?
For now, I am certain to be
sad in the heart when this wing melts,
and I fall, collapsing back into my native soil
before it could reach the clouds or the rainbow,
nothing alike the resonance of this fallen heart,
by my compulsion
I gaze into the silence, alone.