Dante Alighieri (1265-1321)

http://www.facebook.com/topic.php?uid=64357702506&topic=12247
Written by Nurel Javissyarqi
Translated by Agus B. Harianto

Dante Alighieri was born in Florence in 1265, died in Ravenna, Italy, at 1321. He wrote a poem autodidact and briefly went to college in the University of Bologna. By his memory of the introducing with a girl named Beatrice, crossed in his mind to compose poems that made him famous entitled Divina Comedia (1307-1321). He had called to Bologna to receive the highest award as a poet, but he refused. Divina Comedia consists of three sections, Hell, Between Hell and Heaven, Heaven, each of it is 33 songs. According to Ibn Arabi, Dante inspired by Isra’ Mi’raj of Prophet Muhammad SAW in the main idea of his poems.
***

On the quiet street, the dust signifies that the earth is getting older, Dante trotted to welcome Beatrice’s smile, calling each other, chasing one another as well as hiding. There was laughter behind the beautiful eyes, as if no war and intrigue as well in the future, and bitter of heart had not revealed by the reality.

Song of childhood was fully dreams like the stars at night behind a clear glass of houses. Breaths spell the mist, dew on forehead of leaves, the time had passed fully merriment, and comfort was protected by affection.

If the sun began to shine, miss blooming of buds, must not be interpreted by frown, through glance of eyes it’s been there. Because sincerity led to across the cloud, to retrace along the valley and hills has not looked yet the motion of civilization.

The time ticked slowly as soft as the river reflects the inspiration of all human being. There’s purity to the ocean, when the instinct accepting carefulness. When he grew, Beatrice smile more and more flowering, curvaceous body spread good smells. If the night’s was most solid, the day as shaded as the moon set late.

Dante is like living poem, each curve of his body has vocabulary, magic verses are hard to compose unless yelled to the dusk; the essence of life embedded in there. Dante was crazy about his own shadow; his reasoning of literary was squeezed up to finish but not to his destination, because the glorious woman counts her destiny through the fingers.

At 1289, Dante moved to the military field as squad leader and got a good name, but the fate of intimacy with Beatrice was not as smooth as his career. His poor fate fell insanely if not at rancor of wanderer, walked along the worn out old streets, observed to step his dream covered by the dust of changes, the loss seem when his beloved woman was seized by a banker; Portinari.

Dragged the wounded soul to seek for protection, amused himself by diligently studying and being submerged in lake of philosophy and also knowledge about divine. The memory incarnated to be poison, pure honey, sugarcane dregs too, depended on how he processed it, the bitterness poked into the limit of anxiety also threshold of stupidity, here superior beings are tested, graduated or destroyed.

Fear and anxiety is the most beautiful song, while beauty hoping was only the softness of the mega, he was adamant to investigate the exceeded time while observing the notes in addition to take honey of knowledge. Beat the heart and mind to combine the words and colors that crossed on the sky of searching, skulked and sometimes on tiptoe and crept off, his memory is nets that were ready to catch the wandering spirit.

The news about creation of poetry has not been revealed yet, poetry was not dredged yet from the bottom of world of life, focused day and night until the body was fevering but ignored, a cluster of pyramid of conviction was planted like sphinxes guard the treasure of knowledge. Kept peeling layer after layer of heart to culminate infinite passion, sheet after sheet knocked out the original conviction, or being infiltrated by a single faith of certitude existence of a broadcasting of hell.

His sweat droplets hatched magic birds flied farther than a reasoning of feeling, there are signed every human step was believed, like the winged wind with mighty herd. So far take hidden rule like the eyes interrupted by the light, so bright and pale like a corpse, he was vibrated more alive than what he felt previously.

Infiltrated by upside sown and up of the waves hit the rock, clever and actively cut series of period. Resembling like sea water incarnates salt, the body curled up like homeless on the banks room to study away from eyes. The thunder storm of life continued to fly the soul, swayed by vortex of storm embedded tightly, poetry as his conviction.
***

Below, I took excerpt Neraka III (HELL III), 1-9 Dante Alighieri’s work from the book World Poetry, Volume I, compiled by M. Taslim Ali, published by Balai Pustaka, 1952.
(Which is in retranslation into English would be more or less like below;)

Karena aku kaupun masuk kota sengsara
Karena aku kauderita sangsai tak berhingga
karena aku kaulihat bangsa dilaknat siksa.

Lantaran adil-Nya akupun dicipta-Nya
Kasih pertama bekerja membangun aku
Ditilik mahabijaksana dan iradat-Nya.

Selain yang abadi, tiada ciptaan ketemu
Sebelum aku, pula abadi perlanjutan aku:
Lepaslah, siapa masuk, segala harapanmu!

Lalu kutatap kata-kata yang suram itu,
Tertulis di papan pada atas rangka gerbang.
Kataku: Sungguh kejam tulisan dinding itu.

Tapi aku diisyaratinya lembut dan terang:
Di sini pantang memutar pikir ke belakang,
Membiar ketakutan di cermin hati membayang.


Because of me you enter the city of misery
Because of me you suffered infinite doubt
Because of me you see the nation accursed by punishment.

Because of His Equitable I was created by Him
The first love worked to develop me
Visited by all-wise and His Iradat.

Besides the eternal, no creation met
Before me, also the immortal of further to me:
Release, who entered, all your hope!

Then I looked at the words of the dreary,
Written on the board in the framework of the gate.
I said: the writing on the wall is really cruel.

But I was conditioned softly and brightly:
Here abstinence rolled thinking backward,
Let the fear in the mirror of hearts shadowing.
***

I felt the words in his poem covered by the grave, or it already became the soul of immortality to perpetuate. Dante saw the world was no longer in the shiver, very tough beyond calculation of faith which is embedded in every word of the heart.

There is word of honor that can’t be talked again by the change, comprehended fully and totally by devoutness of stone of the cave, incapable to pass through except the patience of water observes its fibers. There are historical fractions of destiny hit the light, Dante caught it like striking a lightning incarnated trident, thundered the reasons of readers.

If I am not present at the end of time, I may not be able to read it more clearly than words; civilization is now high rock promontory towering. I witnessed his works similar like the most imperious old city and none capable to tear it down, because it engaged their fate with the banquet of eternity.

Dante, your fortune-telling, had striped here, in the jungle of poetry as such of a form of lion roaring to tear down the immature mental. Through the drops of sweat rolled from my forehead, I interpreted the solids of your time on the approval of The Great Time. And I got in the harmony of the pain intention, entered and came out the steep gloom mercilessly unless the mirror image of His Iradat. So, I kissed your brow in the eternity.