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HELLO I'M Muhammad Rois Rinaldi|WELCOME TO MY PERSONAL BLOG|I LOVE TO DO CREATIVE THINGS|

POEMS


If You Forget Me
By: Pablo Neruda

I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine. 
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Don't Go Far Off
By: Pablo Neruda

Don't go far off, not even for a day, because --
because -- I don't know how to say it: a day is long
and I will be waiting for you, as in an empty station
when the trains are parked off somewhere else, asleep.

Don't leave me, even for an hour, because
then the little drops of anguish will all run together,
the smoke that roams looking for a home will drift
into me, choking my lost heart.

Oh, may your silhouette never dissolve on the beach;
may your eyelids never flutter into the empty distance.
Don't leave me for a second, my dearest,

because in that moment you'll have gone so far
I'll wander mazily over all the earth, asking,
Will you come back? Will you leave me here, dying?

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A Song Of Despair
By: Pablo Neruda

The memory of you emerges from the night around me.
The river mingles its stubborn lament with the sea.

Deserted like the wharves at dawn.
It is the hour of departure, oh deserted one!

Cold flower heads are raining over my heart.
Oh pit of debris, fierce cave of the shipwrecked.

In you the wars and the flights accumulated.
From you the wings of the song birds rose.

You swallowed everything, like distance.
Like the sea, like time. In you everything sank!

It was the happy hour of assault and the kiss.
The hour of the spell that blazed like a lighthouse.

Pilot's dread, fury of blind driver,
turbulent drunkenness of love, in you everything sank!

In the childhood of mist my soul, winged and wounded.
Lost discoverer, in you everything sank!

You girdled sorrow, you clung to desire,
sadness stunned you, in you everything sank!

I made the wall of shadow draw back,
beyond desire and act, I walked on.

Oh flesh, my own flesh, woman whom I loved and lost,
I summon you in the moist hour, I raise my song to you.

Like a jar you housed infinite tenderness.
and the infinite oblivion shattered you like a jar.

There was the black solitude of the islands,
and there, woman of love, your arms took me in.

There was thirst and hunger, and you were the fruit.
There were grief and ruins, and you were the miracle.

Ah woman, I do not know how you could contain me
in the earth of your soul, in the cross of your arms!

How terrible and brief my desire was to you!
How difficult and drunken, how tensed and avid.

Cemetery of kisses, there is still fire in your tombs,
still the fruited boughs burn, pecked at by birds.

Oh the bitten mouth, oh the kissed limbs,
oh the hungering teeth, oh the entwined bodies.

Oh the mad coupling of hope and force
in which we merged and despaired.

And the tenderness, light as water and as flour.
And the word scarcely begun on the lips.

This was my destiny and in it was my voyage of my longing,
and in it my longing fell, in you everything sank!

Oh pit of debris, everything fell into you,
what sorrow did you not express, in what sorrow are you not drowned!

From billow to billow you still called and sang.
Standing like a sailor in the prow of a vessel.

You still flowered in songs, you still brike the currents.
Oh pit of debris, open and bitter well.

Pale blind diver, luckless slinger,
lost discoverer, in you everything sank!

It is the hour of departure, the hard cold hour
which the night fastens to all the timetables.

The rustling belt of the sea girdles the shore.
Cold stars heave up, black birds migrate.

Deserted like the wharves at dawn.
Only tremulous shadow twists in my hands.

Oh farther than everything. Oh farther than everything.

It is the hour of departure. Oh abandoned one!


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THE PERSPECTIVE OF COUNTRY

By: Muhammad Rois Rinaldi

Sir, liver, lymph, and heart have served
come here, take with fresh blood and foulest tear as well
go up to podium, the precious words have been prepared
nobody will interrupt your sentence 
this chamber has been like a burial
don’t forget with the pronoun of “we”
because I and they are behind you
you shuffle along streets, turn around the living place
and cardboard in which we snore
having the pillar of your flags

the colors of face make a decorate of our wall
red, curses of all sorts fulfilled by hurts
yellow, our color of farm
as a contribution for your palace
a handful you never give 
what the dry season of painful stomach!
blue, our sky sir
covered by black or
white cloud?
we are almost color blind!

this chamber has been a burial of sound
as ourselves serving place no value
let’s begin, read your God’s words
Though having untruthful fragrance, we say amen together

Cilegon-Banten, 26-11-2011


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A Walk
By: Rainer Maria Rilke

My eyes already touch the sunny hill.
going far ahead of the road I have begun.
So we are grasped by what we cannot grasp;
it has inner light, even from a distance-

and charges us, even if we do not reach it,
into something else, which, hardly sensing it,
we already are; a gesture waves us on
answering our own wave...
but what we feel is the wind in our faces.

Translated by Robert Bly
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I think of you along my walk
By: Rainer Maria Rilke

Maha Rani, Neela Bou, my lady in red
I am ready to walk, just got up from my bed
I walk with joy, head high never look back
I am on constant walk, I carry sharing, caring in my sack
Walk to walk, walk to think, walk with integrity and love
Walk to explore, walk to see the light from above
Walk through dream to dream and goal to goal
Walk to sing, walk to dance, walk through my mind and soul
Life is a walk, alone I walk, lonely walk of life
Walk together till death do us apart as husband and wife
We are born, born to die
Walking towards death, it's the truth, not a lie
All it matters, how we walk in this life on Earth
1st walk is the best of all after Ma gave our birth
I walk through my mind each day
Start my walk with prayers, I must say
Walk is the essence of life a journey from Earth to Heaven
Walk with pride, you have to earn what you want, nothing is given
Grateful to have walked all these years, hope to walk on my last day
Lady, I love you, I think of you along my walk, along the way.

Translated by  Syed

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