I look at the faces of people,
passing by waiting for dusk to arrive,
breezy winds hoist coolness,
waiting for the night's rest for tired bodies,
miss overlapping tells a thousand dreams and dreams,
unaware of the age of a speck
near death.
Those people,
of which are me too,
spell the rest of the opportunity
pursue time after second,
answer life questions,
or turning away leaving a bitter reality.
At the end of the night
in prostration you can only surrender and pray,
I hope you sweat this afternoon,
transformed into vessels of love,
from it flowing affection,
fertilize a withered life,
fertilize flowers,
fragrant and beautiful.
I look at the faces of people,
who fell asleep asleep in a dream,
tired faces
who never gave up,
is my face too,
because I look in the mirror,
which tells the story of strokes that are getting older.
My mirror speaks no lie,
my sun rises again giving light,
my love vessel,
prayer and hope ...
- - -
Bantar Gebang - Bekasi May 13, 2009
By Muhammad Saroji
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