I.
Nggih? forcefully a question
Which must be answered, nggih mbah.
An aging man who was a soldier
Now tends luminous koi
They eat the green fuzz off of
an ancient wall of lava rock
Behind him, the sound of a bow
Whirring and buzzing through sunbleached
Air, Spaces between a few haphazard teeth
Running alongside the barbed wire
Which divides the temple from the cassava field.
What happens when the mind breaks down
When the tight weave of silence is torn
And waves of heart's trauma, stale blood
Flows forth
A bird sings at night more desperately
And gives confidence to insomnia
The Unutterable whirs, buzzes, squeaks
And is drawn in geometric military formations
On the hot dust.
Labelling no one foreigner, skin unseen
Also, the present unseen
What comfort in the presence of a deteriorating mind
that allows unquestioning
the presence of the Other, which is I
every microscopic nerve-ending relieved of
its subtle pain
Unsureness
(the test)
Nothing else
So much hiddenness
Not yet enough
Not yet added up
Drawn out
over and over
Psyche left dry
A parched surface
Suspended over
Another mess
II
Colors darkened
in the paint which holds an image
of sky heavy with moisture, prayer, the other
world which forms its continual partnership
with our temporal consciousness.
We ask, Bless us, open the door, lift veils
in moments of pleasure
in moments of acquiescence to the four directions
which cement our center
in lava
Lahar pours through the endless valley
a trickling river becomes a monolith
hot and molten, carrying its fertility
through a path of mortification
death, a pile of skulls and a pile of
tree trunks
which reanimate at night, taking on our dreams
Rush through the cool starlit air
Oh Sriti, the special swallow
Impervious to the destruction
Flying in sevens around the tips of
coconut trees
Oh Naga, churning your ancient path
to encircle the temple
Give your warning and direct us
to the spine
Oh Tokek, your laughter and your bite
a bearer of tradition most difficult to understand
and best bore by humor
And the trickling of water
before and after
the deluge
- Jessika Kenney, Blitar, East Java, 2011
Poem of Attar, 12th c, Persian
- translated by Ostad Omoumi, Dr. Fatemeh Keshavarz, and Jessika Kenney
ای بلبل خوشنوا فغان کن
عید است نوای عاشقان کن
چون سبزه ز خاک سر برآورد
ترک دل و برگ بوستان کن
بالشت ز سنبل و سمن ساز
وز برگ بنفشه سایبان کن
چون لاله ز سر کله بینداز
سرخوش شو و دست در میان کن
بردار سفینه غزل را
وز هر ورقی گلی نشان کن
صد گوهر معنی ار توانی
در گوش حریف نکتهدان کن
وان دم که رسی به شعر عطار
در مجلس عاشقان روان کن
ما صوفی صفهی صفاییم
بی خود ز خودیم و از خداییم
"Ey bolbol-e khosh navå faghån kon"
Oh nightengale give to us a great song
"Eid-ast navå-ye åsheghån kon"
In this sacred spring sing of the lovers
"Chon sabze ze khåk sar bar åvard"
As green shoots burst from the soil
"Tark-e del o barg-e bustån kon"
Abandon your heart to become an unfurling leaf
"Bålesh ze sonbol o saman såz"
Weave a pillow from the hyacinth and the jasmine
"Vaz barg-e banafsheh såyebån kon"
Shade yourself beneath violet blossoms
"Chon låleh ze sar kolah beandåz"
like petals from tulips throw the hat from your head
"Sarkhosh sho vo dast dar miyån kon"
Be joyous and dance with your hand at your waist
"Bardår safineh-ye ghazal rå"
Take up the book of poems
"Vaz har varaghi gol-i neshån kon"
Reveal the flower found in each page
"Sad gohar-e ma'ani artavåni"
If you can grasp the many jewels of meaning
"Dar gush-e harif-e noktedån kon"
Found in the rival ear of one who understands subtlety
"Vån dam ke resi be she'er-e Attår"
And that moment when you understand the poem of Attar
"Dar majles-e åsheghån ravån kon"
Into the company of the Lovers you have arrived
"Må sufi-ye soffe-ye safå-im
We are pure on the path of enthrallment
Bi khod ze khodim-o az khodå-im"
Free of ourselves we belong to god