As a little child, you built a paper boat and sailed it down the river; the current was slow and your boat rocked its way to the ocean.
“It will stop in big ports,” an old man said. You were excited and went home as your world gleamed in colors.
You have been waiting to hear from the boat ever since; you never stopped thinking about it.

One day, you got a message from the same old man, Noah:
“I’ve sailed your boat in a great flood, and now it’s stranded on a hill.”

1982

To read the poem in the original (Indonesian), sail your own boat to this page.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s