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