Waking

At bedtime: a woman of the streets

On waking: forlornness befalls him

The venom in his body spreads

But nobody’s complaining

He drags himself to the windowpane

And contemplates the morning as always

He sees the trees replete with fruit

The world growing lovelier by the minute

More and more his heart is troubled

To the clouds his desire climbs

He turns back again to that belly of an houri

And dreams another paradise.

Sitor Situmorang
tr. after Damais