The Window
Here
pine trees shed their leaves, and rolls of waves
are routinely cast off.
Here
the season sights on earth,
sand, cold, and night,
as peace summons as fitfully
the wind upon your shivering self.
And woods bloom
into distant spaces: Please come!
There rises a pair of hills, red and pointed
from bare fields
and parched land
where your heart reaches out. A solitary
windmill spins in the gleam of sunset, and
on the edge of the continent
a rainbow spreads.
Do not mortals return at this hour
when the soil resurges,
like a poem
mute in words like crystal,
enchanted, eternal?
1961
Translator: Laskmi Pamuntjak
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Taken from Selected Poems, Puisi Pilihan: Revised and Expanded [Kata Kita: 2004]