Thinking of Tuyo when there is Salmon
There’s grilled salmon on my plate
and a goblet of white wine.
It is an ordinary meal for me
that I oftentimes hate it
because bangus* tastes better
and tuba brings more laughter.
A grilled pink salmon
in olive oil
And a goblet of white wine
Give me depression
Instead of celebration,
That finally we have a good life.
But in a strange land
Wine only makes me
forget the life I left behind
where we happily shared
tuyo and coffee poured
on rice.
*bangus – milkfish
*tuyo– dried fish
*tuba – coconut wine
Memories of Bali
Amidst the vastness of Java Sea
And the cloudy skies of Bali
The salty taste of wind
Gently whip pasts me
Like your whisper to the wind
To bring me back to your
Waiting arms, like a long time ago.
From afar the majestic mountains
Echoing the deep chants of our
Ancestors calling to their Gods and Goddesses,
As they start to harvest rice
And I gather memories.
A Night in the Land of the Crescent Moons
I hear their voices everywhere
chanting prayers from a hundred years
never forgotten, always on the same spot
facing the Holy Land.
The crescent moon shines atop
the glimmering dome.
Holy,
Unholy
Pure,
Impure.
Washing of feet
Before entering the Holy Place
Water washes away impurity,
Pray, chant, bowed head,
Blessed are thou who
Believe without seeing
The Holy One.