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Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them [trailer 4]

Cast: Eddie Redmayne, Ezra Miller, Colin Farrell, Katherine Waterston, Jon Voight, Gemma Chan, Samantha Morton, Carmen Ejogo, Cinta Laura Kiehl

trailer for Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, directed by David Yates, screenplay, inspired by J.K. Rowling (2016)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Chan Hitchhikes To Shanghai

Chan goes to shanghai,
Chan hitchhikes to shanghai,
Chan goes to shanghai,
Chan hitchhikes to shanghai,
Chan goes to shanghai,
Chan hitchhikes to shanghai,
He took a trip to see his mother,
And she was sick, how he got over, he took pride in everything he did,
Never had a harsh word?
Chan goes to shanghai,
Chan hitchhikes to shanghai,
Chan goes to shanghai,
Chan hitchhikes to shanghai,
Works on the snow, works in the wind,
How does he travel? whos with him?
Didnt think chan had a family,
Grew accustomed to a symphony, chan held on to his mystery,
Chan, whaty doin man?
Say chan, I wrote this song about you man,
It goes, chan goes to shanghai,
Chan hitchhikes to shanghai,
Chan goes to shanghai,
Chan hitchhikes to shanghai,
Chan goes to shanghai,
Miss his cooking, sense of humour,
Miss his timing, his discipline, wee all miss chan but we cant advoid,
Now theres an empty space (? ),
Goin to give to leave his job,
Hes the only man, I wrote this song,
Hey, chan, whaty doin man?
Say chan, I wrote this song about you man,
It goes, chan goes to shanghai,
Chan hitchhikes to shanghai,
Chan goes to shanghai,
Chan hitchhikes to shanghai,
Hitchhikes, hitchhikes,
To shanghai, hitchhikes, to shanghai,
Chan,
Chan goes to shanghai,
Chan hitchhikes to shanghai,
Chan goes to shanghai,
Chan hitchhikes to shanghai,
Chan goes to shanghai,
Chan hitchhikes to shanghai,
Chan goes to shanghai,
Chan hitchhikes to shanghai,
Chan, hitchhikes, oh chan, anyway you can
Ha, come back chan, come back chan,
Shanghai chan,
Shanghai chan,

[...] Read more

song performed by Grace Jones
Added by Lucian Velea
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Goblin Market

MORNING and evening
Maids heard the goblins cry:
"Come buy our orchard fruits,
Come buy, come buy:
Apples and quinces,
Lemons and oranges,
Plump unpecked cherries-
Melons and raspberries,
Bloom-down-cheeked peaches,
Swart-headed mulberries,
Wild free-born cranberries,
Crab-apples, dewberries,
Pine-apples, blackberries,
Apricots, strawberries--
All ripe together
In summer weather--
Morns that pass by,
Fair eves that fly;
Come buy, come buy;
Our grapes fresh from the vine,
Pomegranates full and fine,
Dates and sharp bullaces,
Rare pears and greengages,
Damsons and bilberries,
Taste them and try:
Currants and gooseberries,
Bright-fire-like barberries,
Figs to fill your mouth,
Citrons from the South,
Sweet to tongue and sound to eye,
Come buy, come buy."

Evening by evening
Among the brookside rushes,
Laura bowed her head to hear,
Lizzie veiled her blushes:
Crouching close together
In the cooling weather,
With clasping arms and cautioning lips,
With tingling cheeks and finger-tips.
"Lie close," Laura said,
Pricking up her golden head:
We must not look at goblin men,
We must not buy their fruits:
Who knows upon what soil they fed
Their hungry thirsty roots?"
"Come buy," call the goblins
Hobbling down the glen.
"O! cried Lizzie, Laura, Laura,
You should not peep at goblin men."

[...] Read more

poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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Samantha

One night in a cold sweat
I heard the call
So without fear and free from fright
I walked tall
As I crept the passages
Only just but faint
In and out of the central heating
It came and then went
Samantha, samantha dear
I have to be gone
Samantha, oh samantha dear
But ooh, she slept on
Well Ive itched a thousand itches
But this one tops them all
While crouched down with an ear to the ground
I saw the call
Springing up in disbelief
The supension spilt
And peering in a bathroom mirror
Hung the men with guilt
Samantha, samantha dear
I have to be gone
Samantha, oh samantha dear
But ooh, she slept on
One night in a cold sweat
I heard the call
So without fear and free from fright
I walked tall
Samantha, samantha dear
I have to be gone
Samantha, oh samantha dear
But
Samantha, samantha dear
I have to be gone
Samantha, oh samantha dear
But
There were all sorts of funny faces
Being pulled
But mine was the funniest face
Samantha, samantha dear
I have to be gone
Samantha, oh samantha dear
But ooh, she slept on

song performed by Madness
Added by Lucian Velea
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Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them

Cast: Eddie Redmayne, Ezra Miller, Colin Farrell, Katherine Waterston, Jon Voight, Gemma Chan, Samantha Morton, Carmen Ejogo, Cinta Laura Kiehl

trailer for Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, directed by David Yates, screenplay by J.K. Rowling (2016)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them [trailer 2]

Cast: Eddie Redmayne, Ezra Miller, Colin Farrell, Katherine Waterston, Jon Voight, Gemma Chan, Samantha Morton, Carmen Ejogo, Cinta Laura Kiehl

trailer for Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, directed by David Yates, screenplay by J.K. Rowling (2016)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them [trailer 3]

Cast: Eddie Redmayne, Ezra Miller, Colin Farrell, Katherine Waterston, Jon Voight, Gemma Chan, Samantha Morton, Carmen Ejogo, Cinta Laura Kiehl

trailer for Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, directed by David Yates, screenplay, inspired by J.K. Rowling (2016)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Kenapa bilang cinta

Kenapa bilang cinta
Bila hanya sekejap mata
Kenapa bilang suka
Bila cuma di bibir saja

Kenapa bilang cinta
Bila untuk status semata
Kenapa bilang saying
Bila bukan aku yang dibayang

Kenapa bilang cinta
Bila semuanya pura-pura
Kenapa bilang peduli
Bila sebenarnya tak ada di hati

Kenapa bilang cinta
Bila kata-kata tak dimakna
Kenapa bilang takdir
Bila nantinya berakhir

Kenapa bilang cinta
Bila tak cukup rasa
Kenapa bilang segalanya
Bila akhirnya tak bersisa

Kenapa bilang cinta
Bila alasan lain tak berguna
Kenapa bilang bahagia
Bila terus tersiksa

Kenapa bilang cinta
Bila selalu terpaksa
Kenapa bilang tak masalah
Bila berpisah karena berubah

Kenapa bilang cinta
Bila besok lalu lupa
Kenapa bilang selalu ada
Bila sepi kian mendera

Kenapa bilang cinta
Bila tak berusaha percaya
Kenapa bilang mencoba
Bila menghindari terluka

Kenapa bilang cinta
Bila berharap sebaliknya
Kenapa bilang mengerti
Bila tak pernah tepati janji

[...] Read more

poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Colin Clouts Come Home Againe

Colin Clouts Come Home Againe
THe shepheards boy (best knowen by that name)
That after Tityrus first sung his lay,
Laies of sweet loue, without rebuke or blame,
Sate (as his custome was) vpon a day,
Charming his oaten pipe vnto his peres,
The shepheard swaines, that did about him play:
Who all the while with greedie listfull eares,
Did stand astonisht at his curious skill,
Like hartlesse deare, dismayed with thunders sound.
At last when as he piped had his fill,
He rested him: and sitting then around,
One of those groomes (a iolly groome was he,
As euer piped on an oaten reed,
And lou'd this shepheard dearest in degree,
Hight Hobbinol) gan thus to him areed.
Colin my liefe, my life, how great a losse
Had all the shepheards nation by thy lacke?
And I poore swaine of many greatest crosse:
That sith thy Muse first since thy turning backe
Was heard to sound as she was wont on hye,
Hast made vs all so blessed and so blythe.
Whilest thou wast hence, all dead in dole did lye:
The woods were heard to waile full many a sythe,
And all their birds with silence to complaine:
The fields with faded flowers did seem to mourne,
And all their flocks from feeding to refraine:
The running waters wept for thy returne,
And all their fish with langour did lament:
But now both woods and fields, and floods reuiue,
Sith thou art come, their cause of meriment,
That vs late dead, hast made againe aliue:
But were it not too painfull to repeat
The passed fortunes, which to thee befell
In thy late voyage, we thee would entreat,
Now at thy leisure them to vs to tell.
To whom the shepheard gently answered thus,
Hobbin thou temptest me to that I couet:
For of good passed newly to discus,
By dubble vsurie doth twise renew it.
And since I saw that Angels blessed eie,
Her worlds bright sun, her heauens fairest light,
My mind full of my thoughts satietie,
Doth feed on sweet contentment of that sight:
Since that same day in nought I take delight,
Ne feeling haue in any earthly pleasure,
But in remembrance of that glorious bright,
My lifes sole blisse, my hearts eternall threasure.
Wake then my pipe, my sleepie Muse awake,
Till I haue told her praises lasting long:

[...] Read more

poem by Edmund Spenser
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Beppo

I.
'Tis known, at least it should be, that throughout
All countries of the Catholic persuasion,
Some weeks before Shrove Tuesday comes about,
The people take their fill of recreation,
And buy repentance, ere they grow devout,
However high their rank, or low their station,
With fiddling, feasting, dancing, drinking, masking,
And other things which may be had for asking.

II.
The moment night with dusky mantle covers
The skies (and the more duskily the better),
The time less liked by husbands than by lovers
Begins, and prudery flings aside her fetter;
And gaiety on restless tiptoe hovers,
Giggling with all the gallants who beset her;
And there are songs and quavers, roaring, humming,
Guitars, and every other sort of strumming.

III.
And there are dresses splendid, but fantastical,
Masks of all times and nations, Turks and Jews,
And harlequins and clowns, with feats gymnastical,
Greeks, Romans, Yankee-doodles, and Hindoos;
All kinds of dress, except the ecclesiastical,
All people, as their fancies hit, may choose,
But no one in these parts may quiz the clergy, —
Therefore take heed, ye Freethinkers! I charge ye.

IV.
You'd better walk about begirt with briars,
Instead of coat and smallclothes, than put on
A single stitch reflecting upon friars,
Although you swore it only was in fun;
They'd haul you o'er the coals, and stir the fires
Of Phlegethon with every mother's son,
Nor say one mass to cool the caldron's bubble
That boil'd your bones, unless you paid them double.

V.
But saving this, you may put on whate'er
You like by way of doublet, cape, or cloak.
Such as in Monmouth-street, or in Rag Fair,
Would rig you out in seriousness or joke;
And even in Italy such places are,
With prettier name in softer accents spoke,
For, bating Covent Garden, I can hit on
No place that's called "Piazza" in Great Britain.

[...] Read more

poem by Byron (1818)
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Beppo, A Venetian Story

I.
'Tis known, at least it should be, that throughout
All countries of the Catholic persuasion,
Some weeks before Shrove Tuesday comes about,
The People take their fill of recreation,
And buy repentance, ere they grow devout,
However high their rank, or low their station,
With fiddling, feasting, dancing, drinking, masking,
And other things which may be had for asking.

II.
The moment Night with dusky mantle covers
The skies (and the more duskily the better),
The Time--less liked by husbands than by lovers--
Begins, and Prudery flings aside her fetter,
And Gaiety on restless tiptoe hovers,
Giggling with all the Gallants who beset her;
And there are Songs and quavers, roaring, humming,
Guitars, and every other sort of strumming.

III.
And there are dresses, splendid but fantastical,
Masks of all times and nations, Turks and Jews,
And Harlequins and Clowns, with feats gymnastical,
Greeks, Romans, Yankee-doodles, and Hindoos;
All kinds of dress, except the ecclesiastical,
All people, as their fancies hit, may choose,
But no one in these parts may quiz the Clergy,--
Therefore take heed, ye Freethinkers! I charge ye.

IV.
You'd better walk about begirt with briars,
Instead of Coat and smallclothes, than put on
A single stitch reflecting upon Friars,
Although you swore it only was in fun;
They'd haul you o'er the coals, and stir the fires
Of Phlegethon with every mother's son,
Nor say one Mass to cool the Caldron's bubble
That boil'd your bones--unless you paid them double.

V.
But saving this, you may put on whate'er
You like by way of doublet, cape, or cloak,
Such as in Monmouth Street, or in Rag Fair,
Would rig you out in Seriousness or Joke;
And even in Italy such places are
With prettier name in softer accents spoke,
For, bating Covent Garden, I can hit on
No place that's called 'Piazza' in Great Britain.

[...] Read more

poem by Byron
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Carmen

Last night she ran away
Left a letter by the telephone
She didnt take the time to say goodbye
He knows he has to find her
Find a way to make her come back home
She stretched her wings and learned to fly
Carmen
Carmen, dont you care for me
Carmen
Carmen, dont you care
Carmen, dont you care for me
He calls but theres no answer
Operator, ring it one more time
He thinks of her and shuts his eyes
She wears the ring he gave her
Something magic, and it once was mine
Will she be thinking of him tonight?
Carmen
Carmen, dont you care for me
Carmen
Carmen, dont you care
Carmen, dont you care for me
He has to find her
I really miss that girl
He steals into the night
Hell go mad without her
Im so mad about her
Carmen
Carmen, dont you care for me
Carmen
Carmen, dont you care
Carmen, dont you care for me

song performed by Toto
Added by Lucian Velea
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A Pleasant Ballad Of King Henry II. And The Miller Of Mansfield

Part the First.

Henry, our royall kind, would ride a hunting
To the greene forest so pleasant and faire;
To see the harts skipping, and dainty does tripping,
Unto merry Sherwood his nobles repaire:
Hawke and hound were unbound, all things prepar'd
For the game, in the same, with good regard.

All a long summers day rode the king pleasantlye,
With all his princes and nobles eche one;
Chasing the hart and hind, and the bucke gallantlye,
Till the dark evening forc'd all to turne home.
Then at last, riding fast, he had lost quite
All his lords in the wood, late in the night.

Wandering thus wearilye, all alone, up and downe,
With a rude miller he mett at the last;
Asking the ready way unto faire Nottingham,
'Sir,' quoth the miller, 'I meane not to jest,
Yet I thinke, what I thinke, sooth for to say;
You doe not lightlye ride out of your way.'

'Why, what dost thou tihnk of me,' quoth our king merrily,
'Passing thy judgement upon me so briefe?'
'Good faith,' sayd the miller, 'I meane not to flatter thee,
I guess thee to bee but some gentleman thiefe;
Stand thee backe, in the darke; light not adowne,
Lest that I presently crack thy knaves crowne.'

'Thou dost abuse me much,' quoth the king, 'saying thus;
I am a gentleman; lodging I lacke.'
'Thou hast not,' quoth th' miller, 'one groat in thy purse;
All thy inheritance hanges on thy backe.'
'I have gold to discharge all that I call;
If it be forty pence, I will pay all.'

'If thou beest a true man,' then quoth the miller,
'I sweare by my toll-dish, I'll lodge thee all night.'
'Here's my hand,' quoth the king, 'that was I ever.'
'Nay, soft,' quoth the miller, 'thou may'st be a sprite.
Better I'll know thee, ere hands we will shake;
With none but honest men hands will I take.'

Thus they went all along unto the millers house,
Where they were seething of puddings and souse;
The miller first enter'd in, after him went the king;
Never came hee in soe smoakye a house.
'Now,' quoth hee, 'let me see here what you are.'
Quoth our king, 'Looke your fill, and do not spare.'

[...] Read more

poem by Anonymous Olde English
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Tale XIII

JESSE AND COLIN.

A Vicar died and left his Daughter poor -
It hurt her not, she was not rich before:
Her humble share of worldly goods she sold,
Paid every debt, and then her fortune told;
And found, with youth and beauty, hope and health,
Two hundred guineas was her worldly wealth;
It then remain'd to choose her path in life,
And first, said Jesse, 'Shall I be a wife? -
Colin is mild and civil, kind and just,
I know his love, his temper I can trust;
But small his farm, it asks perpetual care,
And we must toil as well as trouble share:
True, he was taught in all the gentle arts
That raise the soul and soften human hearts;
And boasts a parent, who deserves to shine
In higher class, and I could wish her mine;
Nor wants he will his station to improve,
A just ambition waked by faithful love;
Still is he poor--and here my Father's Friend
Deigns for his Daughter, as her own, to send:
A worthy lady, who it seems has known
A world of griefs and troubles of her own:
I was an infant when she came a guest
Beneath my father's humble roof to rest;
Her kindred all unfeeling, vast her woes,
Such her complaint, and there she found repose;
Enrich'd by fortune, now she nobly lives,
And nobly, from the bless'd abundance, gives;
The grief, the want, of human life she knows,
And comfort there and here relief bestows:
But are they not dependants?--Foolish pride!
Am I not honour'd by such friend and guide?
Have I a home' (here Jesse dropp'd a tear),
'Or friend beside?'--A faithful friend was near.
Now Colin came, at length resolved to lay
His heart before her, and to urge her stay:
True, his own plough the gentle Colin drove,
An humble farmer with aspiring love;
Who, urged by passion, never dared till now,
Thus urged by fears, his trembling hopes avow:
Her father's glebe he managed; every year
The grateful Vicar held the youth more dear;
He saw indeed the prize in Colin's view,
And wish'd his Jesse with a man so true:
Timid as true, he urged with anxious air
His tender hope, and made the trembling prayer,
When Jesse saw, nor could with coldness see,
Such fond respect, such tried sincerity;

[...] Read more

poem by George Crabbe
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Sebuah bom yang meledak bernama sunyi (Indonesian)

: Teungku Abdullah Syafii in memoriam
(1)

Bilakah ini harinya bom yang engkau lemparkan bersama
Butir udara berinteraksi memekatkan cinta
Yang dinamakan kesumat tak akan ada yang
Bisa kuperbuat kecuali
Menikam waktu dan sebuah bom yang
Meledak engkau sebut sunyi,
Dari lukakah mengalirkan darah
Yang engkau sebut cinta yang
Akhirnya menghantarkan
Pada kilatan api dalam ketiadaan,
Ketiadaan Teungku yang menemukan
Aliran darahnya, ketiadaan hamba tanpa sunyi,
Dan engkau lemparkan sunyi, engkau lemparkan
Kepada waktu:
Sebuah bom meledak bernama sunyi
Lalu aku mencatatnya dengan cinta

(2)

Teungku: duka duri semak ada di dadamu, cinta manakah
Yang hendak dikuburkan, aku tepiskan
Tanpa memilih hidup ini akan dikemanakan
Mungkin bersama bayang-bayang hujan lalu
Sunyi ini akan diberikan kepada siapa?
Siapakah pembunuh waktu yang tak mengerti:
Luka ini berasal juga dari Cinta
Cinta berasal muasal dari duka keabadian
Mungkin kita ini bangsa yang lupa
Bahwa bendera kita bukanlah kemenangan
Tetapi kekalahan berkepanjangan
Sebagai hamba Duli Paduka, cinta manakah?
Bagai berondongan pertanyaan ini menyergap
Dan Teungku: dekaplah damai keabadianMu

(3)

Duka sergap kematian ini semakin lekat, bila moncong menganga
Selalu berarah kepadamu, kenangan apakah
Jejak bayang-bayang hujan terlalu samar
Untuk siapakah engkau kirim kegelisahan ini
Senyap rerumputan memagut lelapmu
Sungai berdiri diam bisu
Menorehkan sederet kebahagiaan
Lewat peluru, mesiu dan bayang-bayang
Mawar, cinta dan kematian
Tak ada yang lebih menarik lagi
Tak ada yang lebih menarik lagi

[...] Read more

poem by Imam Setiaji Ronoatmojo
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My Babys In Love With Eddie Vedder

Oh, my baby, my baby she dont want me no more
Ever since she saw his poster in that record store
She says the way he grinds his molars is really sexy
She thinks hes so darn dysfunctional and generation xy
She likes his brooding angst and his wild-eyed stare
Yeah, hes her very favorite slacker multi-millionaire
Well, my babys in love with eddie vedder
Shes all crazy bout that eddie vedder
Once she was mine, but now I better just forget her
cause my babys in love with eddie vedder
Now, every time I see him, well, he looks so grim
I guess it really must suck to be a rock star like him
What a pain in the butt to have so much success
Spending all his time moping and avoiding the press
But my girl cant get enough of his sullen demeanor
Like hes some big tortured genious and Im some kinda wiener
Well, my babys in love with eddie vedder
Shes got a thing for that eddie vedder
Tell me, what can he do that I cant do better
Now my babys in love with
I said I said I said my babys in love with eddie vedder
Head over heels for that eddie vedder
I cant believe it, now shes knitting him a sweater
cause my babys in love with eddie vedder
I knew we were headin for disaster
When she caught me hangin out at the ticketmaster
Now shes got an unrequited adoratioon
For the frustrated, agitated, designated alienated
Spokesman for the disaffected grunge generation
Well, I dont wear doc martens and I dont wear flannel
And I dont boycott the music video channel
And I just cant compete with all that money and fame
But I know two can play at this game
Yeah, well, lets just see how jealous shess get
When I start stalking alanis morissette
Well, mny babys in love with eddie vedder
Shes all crazy bout that eddie vedder
Once she was mine but now I better just forget her
cause my babys in love with
I said I said I said my babys in love with eddie vedder
Whyd she have to fall for that eddie vedder
If she wants to leave me, I guess I better let her
cause my babys in love with eddie vedder

song performed by Weird Al Yankovic
Added by Lucian Velea
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Tale X

THE LOVER'S JOURNEY.

It is the Soul that sees: the outward eyes
Present the object, but the Mind descries;
And thence delight, disgust, or cool indiff'rence

rise:
When minds are joyful, then we look around,
And what is seen is all on fairy ground;
Again they sicken, and on every view
Cast their own dull and melancholy hue;
Or, if absorb'd by their peculiar cares,
The vacant eye on viewless matter glares,
Our feelings still upon our views attend,
And their own natures to the objects lend:
Sorrow and joy are in their influence sure,
Long as the passion reigns th' effects endure;
But Love in minds his various changes makes,
And clothes each object with the change he takes;
His light and shade on every view he throws,
And on each object what he feels bestows.
Fair was the morning, and the month was June,
When rose a Lover;--love awakens soon:
Brief his repose, yet much he dreamt the while
Of that day's meeting, and his Laura's smile:
Fancy and love that name assign'd to her,
Call'd Susan in the parish-register;
And he no more was John--his Laura gave
The name Orlando to her faithful slave.
Bright shone the glory of the rising day,
When the fond traveller took his favourite way;
He mounted gaily, felt his bosom light,
And all he saw was pleasing in his sight.
'Ye hours of expectation, quickly fly,
And bring on hours of bless'd reality;
When I shall Laura see, beside her stand,
Hear her sweet voice, and press her yielded hand.'
First o'er a barren heath beside the coast
Orlando rode, and joy began to boast.
'This neat low gorse,' said he, 'with golden

bloom,
Delights each sense, is beauty, is perfume;
And this gay ling, with all its purple flowers,
A man at leisure might admire for hours;
This green-fringed cup-moss has a scarlet tip,
That yields to nothing but my Laura's lip;
And then how fine this herbage! men may say
A heath is barren; nothing is so gay:
Barren or bare to call such charming scene

[...] Read more

poem by George Crabbe
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Puisi Sembilan Tabiat Cinta

Sembilan Tabiat Cinta

I.
Musim-musim hampiri cintaku. Padamu tak sempat kutitip rindu. Hujan pergi tinggalkan basah daunan. Aroma kembang menyemerbak ke udara. Tak ada wangi cintaku di sana. Segersang rindu di matamu akan diriku. Dahaga sepi dan nyerinya tertahan di atas sebidang dadaku. Resah bibirmu, terlampau suram kujamah warnanya. Apa kau tak mendengar degup musim menghujam jantung cintaku. Di sana rindu membiru di bibir waktu. Sebiru resahmu.

II.
Aku tulis tabiat cinta ini dengan ingatan terpenggal musim hujan. Terkambang bah di sungai coklat, terapung di selat kecil ditinggalkan para pengumpul pasir. Tak ada sauh tak ada jangkar untuk kulempar biar perahu waktu berhenti. Sebab laju perahu, nyeri gelombang lautan yang menderita di jantungku. Maka kutulis tabiat cinta ini atas nama rasa yang kurasa kesejukannya setiap embun jatuh seperti matamu menatapku.

III.
Aku mencintaimu bukan tanpa perhitungan, meski belum sepenuhnya tepat waktu. Tetapi aku tidak tergesa-gesa. Itulah sebabnya cintaku mengalir tenang. Serupa capung-capung senjahari terbang di atas hamparan padi menguning.

IV.
Cintaku hidup dari udara pagi di lembah-lembah, sawah dan ladang. Berhembus ke samudra mencipta awan. hujan deras adalah kesetiaanku padamu. Kesetiaan musim pada kesejukan. Dan apabila badai dan banjir datang itulah cemburu batinku yang sialan. Apa kau tak merasa ada kehidupan diantara jarak kita memandang?

V.
Kepadamu aku mencari kekuatan hidup dengan segala kesadaran dan fitrah kemanusiaan. Lalu cinta kubangkitkan di dalamnya dengan tangan-tangan api dan air. Hawa panas dan dingin adalah nafasku. Apa kau tak merasa hembusnya kekasih?

VI.
Tak ada kuasa untuk cinta. Jika ketakutan hadir sebab cemburu. Aku bicara dari lubuk bumi. Meski tak ada pohon bicara. Engkaulah maha pendengar kata-kata yang menjelma dedaunan dan reranting subur. Aku tersiksa oleh cinta. Kau tentu tak sudi mengurai air mata, ketika luka batinku menjeritkan nyeri letusan berapi. Tetapi, biarlah lahar panas menyulap rinduku.

VII.
Kita selalu bicara tentang cinta, nestapa, dan impian sejak pertemuan pertama. Meneguk anggur sampai mabuk, hingga kesadaran tunai di persimpangan menuju hidupmu-menemu hidupku. Kita sepakat lupakan segala, madu dan darah kita, lalu kita penuhi dengan air raksa.

VIII.
Cintaku, rasa sakit dari masa lalu, tak terasa oleh nyeri hari ini untuk masa depan.

IX.
Mari kita berdoa satu sama lain.

Yogyakarta,2011-2012

poem by Selendang Sulaiman
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The Death of Yazdagird

From the Shahnameh
There was a paladin, a Turk by race,
A man of influence and named Bizhan;
He dwelt within the coasts of Samarkand
Where he had many kin. Ill-starred Mahwi,
Becoming self-assertive, wrote to him:-
'Thou prosperous scion of the paladins!
A strife hath risen that will bring thee profit:
The Sháh is of all places here at Marv
And with no troops! His head and crown and state,
Wealth, throne, and host, are thine if thou wilt come.
Recall the vengeance owing to thy sires,
And give this unjust race its just reward.'

Bizhan, considering the letter, saw
That insolent Mahwi would win the world,
Then spake thus to his minister: 'Thou chief
Of upright men! what sayest thou to this?
If I lead forth a host to aid Mahwi
'Twill be my ruin here.'

The minister
Replied: 'O lion-hearted warrior!
'Twere shame to help Mahwi and then withdraw.
Command Barsám to set forth with a host
To aid upon this scene of strife. The sage
Will term thee daft to go and fight in person
At the insistence of this man of Súr.'

Bizhan replied: ''Tis well, I will not go
Myself.'

He therefore bade Barsám to lead
Ten thousand valiant cavaliers and swordsmen
To Marv with all the implements of war
If haply he might take the Sháh. That host
Went like a flying pheasant from Bukhárá
To Marv within one week. One night at cock-crow
The sound of tymbals went up from the plain.
How could the king of kings suspect Mahwi
Of Súr to be his enemy? Shouts rose.
A cavalier reached Yazdagird at dawn
To say: 'Mahwi said thus: 'A host of Turks
Hath come. What is the bidding of the Sháh?
The Khán and the Faghfúr of Chin command:
Earth is not able to support their host!''

The Sháh wroth donned his mail. The armies ranged.
He formed his troops to right and left, and all
Advanced to battle. Spear in hand he held

[...] Read more

poem by Hakim Abu'l-Qasim Ferdowsi Tusi Firdowsi
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Robin Hood and the Monk

In somer, when the shawes be sheyne,
And leves be large and long,
Hit is full mery in feyre foreste
To here the foulys song,

To se the dere draw to the dale,
And leve the hilles hee,
And shadow hem in the leves grene,
Under the grene wode tre.

Hit befel on Whitson
Erly in a May mornyng,
The son up feyre can shyne,
And the briddis mery can syng.

'This is a mery mornyng,' seid Litull John,
'Be Hym that dyed on tre;
A more mery man then I am one
Lyves not in Cristianté.

'Pluk up thi hert, my dere mayster,'
Litull John can sey,
'And thynk hit is a full fayre tyme
In a mornyng of May.'

'Ye, on thyng greves me,' seid Robyn,
'And does my hert mych woo:
That I may not no solem day
To mas nor matyns goo.

'Hit is a fourtnet and more,' seid he,
'Syn I my Savyour see;
To day wil I to Notyngham,' seid Robyn,
'With the myght of mylde Marye.'

Than spake Moche, the mylner sun,
Ever more wel hym betyde!
'Take twelve of thi wyght yemen,
Well weppynd, be thi side.
Such on wolde thi selfe slon,
That twelve dar not abyde.'

'Of all my mery men,' seid Robyn,
'Be my feith I wil non have,
But Litull John shall beyre my bow,
Til that me list to drawe.'

'Thou shall beyre thin own,' seid Litull Jon,
'Maister, and I wyl beyre myne,
And we well shete a peny,' seid Litull Jon,

[...] Read more

poem by Anonymous Olde English
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Laura

E "Laura" aspetta un figlio per Natale
e tutto il resto adesso pu aspettare
perch Laura adesso deve
solamente riposare
e forse?!?.... smetter anche di fumare?!
E "laura" aspetta un figlio per Natale
ed sicura che ci
sar "neve...."
da quelle parti sai... non che
ci sia sempre il sole
per... non che neanche tutti
giorni "piove"!
E Laura aspetta un figlio per Natale
e tutto il resto adesso... pu aspettare
perch Laura adesso "deve"
solamente "riposare"
e forse.... smetter anche di fumare...
E laura aspetta un figlio per Natale
ed sicura che ci sar "neve"....
da quelle parti sai... non che
ci sia sempre il sole
per... non che neanche tutti
giorni "piove"!
E Laura aspetta un figlio "per errore"
per lei dice che si chiama "amore"
in ogni caso poi la gente...
sai che cosa vuole!?!
in fondo.... vuole "Natale con la neve"!
E Laura aspetta un figlio per Natale
e tutto il resto adesso pu aspettare
perch Laura adesso deve
solamente "riposare"
e forse.... smetter anche di fumare

song performed by Vasco Rossi
Added by Lucian Velea
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