Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Afrizal Malna

kerosene stove wick in the ear

there is a yellow color spouting in my heart. why
did you come too early and put on those yellow
ears? no. i did not come, not too early, nor did i
put on yellow ears. i’m just the yellow color in
your heart.

why do you address me like that, as though
letting the needle of time insert the wick of a
kerosene stove into my ear? give me another
minute to strike a safety match. give me some
time to wash my feet before leaving. just a
minute to buy a bottle of kerosene. just a minute
to see the fire light up the dark pit of my ear, so i
can see the needle of time that has fallen into
that dark pit. so i can feel time the way i sniff the
odor of raw meat in the dark pit.

no. i will not let you go. i did not let you come
either. i am only looking at the wick of the
kerosene stove burning in your ear.

i only see fear, greatly aged, living in that dark
pit.

sumbu kompor di lubang telinga

sumbu kompor di lubang telinga

ada warna kuning memancar di jantungku. kenapa
kau datang terlalu cepat, dan menggunakan kuping
berwarna kuning? tidak. aku tidak datang dan tidak
terlalu cepat dan tidak menggunakan kuping
berwarna kuning. aku hanya warna kuning di
jantungmu.

kenapa kau memanggilku seperti itu, seperti
membiarkan jarum waktu memasukkan sumbu
kompor ke dalam lubang kupingku. beri aku waktu
satu menit lagi untuk menyalakan korek api. beri
aku waktu untuk membersihkan kakiku sebelum
pergi. sebentar saja untuk membeli satu botol
minyak tanah. sebentar saja untuk melihat api
menerangi lubang kupingku yang gelap, biar aku
bisa melihat jarum waktu yang jatuh dalam lubang
yang gelap itu. biar aku bisa merasakan waktu
seperti mencium bau daging mentah dalam lubang
yang gelap itu.

tidak. aku tidak membiarkan kamu pergi. aku juga
tidak membiarkan kamu datang. aku hanya sedang
melihat sumbu kompor yang terbakar di lubang
kupingmu.

aku hanya melihat usia ketakutan yang terlalu tua
hidup dalam lubang gelap itu.
Close

kerosene stove wick in the ear

there is a yellow color spouting in my heart. why
did you come too early and put on those yellow
ears? no. i did not come, not too early, nor did i
put on yellow ears. i’m just the yellow color in
your heart.

why do you address me like that, as though
letting the needle of time insert the wick of a
kerosene stove into my ear? give me another
minute to strike a safety match. give me some
time to wash my feet before leaving. just a
minute to buy a bottle of kerosene. just a minute
to see the fire light up the dark pit of my ear, so i
can see the needle of time that has fallen into
that dark pit. so i can feel time the way i sniff the
odor of raw meat in the dark pit.

no. i will not let you go. i did not let you come
either. i am only looking at the wick of the
kerosene stove burning in your ear.

i only see fear, greatly aged, living in that dark
pit.

kerosene stove wick in the ear

there is a yellow color spouting in my heart. why
did you come too early and put on those yellow
ears? no. i did not come, not too early, nor did i
put on yellow ears. i’m just the yellow color in
your heart.

why do you address me like that, as though
letting the needle of time insert the wick of a
kerosene stove into my ear? give me another
minute to strike a safety match. give me some
time to wash my feet before leaving. just a
minute to buy a bottle of kerosene. just a minute
to see the fire light up the dark pit of my ear, so i
can see the needle of time that has fallen into
that dark pit. so i can feel time the way i sniff the
odor of raw meat in the dark pit.

no. i will not let you go. i did not let you come
either. i am only looking at the wick of the
kerosene stove burning in your ear.

i only see fear, greatly aged, living in that dark
pit.
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Ludo Pieters Gastschrijver Fonds
Lira fonds
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère