(Translation) A Portrait of the The Young Man as a Protest Poet – Saut Situmorang

cities turn leafless. days turn evil.
shewolf specters rise between ruins.

no more yearning. nothing
moss and embers
keep me company
all day every day.
death bells barrage me,
and i run amok.
fire devours my clothes
my both hands
my unkempt hair. i run
and i scream and i cry. but
no one gives ear.
i see with my eyes blind
i find pain
i listen with my ears deaf
i find jarring noises.
blindness and deafness
can’t protect me
from this miserable life.

my heart’s eyes and ears
nothing but burdens!


(Translated with heart, without burden, with hope, without boredom, from the poet’s own post here. This translation was not done with the poet’s consent–but I will ask his permission pronto. To learn further about the poet, please click here and textsearch “Saut Situmorang.”)


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