Sara Teasdale (1884-1933)

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Written by Nurel Javissyarqi
Translated by Agus B. Harianto

LAGU MALAM DI AMALFI
By Sara Teasdale

Kutanyai langit gemintang,
Apa yang dapat kuberi kasihku.
Jawabnya padaku: Senyap melantang,
Senyap diluhur.

Kutanyai laut mengarang
Yang menelan anak nelayan.
Jawabnya padaku: Senyap melantang,
Senyap mendalam.

Wahai, ia dapat kuberi ratap
Atau hiburan suatu nyanyian,
Tapi betapa memberinya senyap,
Selama hayat dikandung badan.


Songs of the Night in Amalfi
By Sara Teasdale

I asked to the sky and the stars,
What can I give to you my love.
It replied to me: silent is avowedly,
the silent is on the grandeur.

I asked the sea goes to the rock
Whom swallowed children of fisherman.
It replied to me: silent is avowedly,
Silent is deeper.

O, it capable to be gave a wailing by me
Or entertainment of a song,
But how to give it quiet,
As long as I live.

Sara Teasdale (August 8, 1884 to Jan 29, 1933) is American poet, was born and educated in the city of St. Louis. She was frequently traveling around Europe, the Middle East too, she settled in New York in 1916. Her first poem anthology is “Sonnets to Duse”. Subtle nature of her poems is, short but sharp, energetic playing words she motioned, over the strains of supple rhythm. Her famous works is “Flame and Shadow” (1920), related to the purport of the increasing age, then her mind was deeper, about the future, also the changes is under the exchange of the year. Similarly Emily Dickinson, her words are concise but fascinating. (From the book “Puisi Dunia” (World Poetry), Volume II, compiled by M. Taslim Ali, Balai Pustaka, 1953, which is retranslated into English would be more or less like above).

Making poesy is the art of language or speaking, emitting the beauty of lights of the words, so the figure of a woman, dignified manners.

When both are summarized, the softness was overlapped, the fog settled to prosper grains dew of eyes, which greeted at the morning of world.

When Teasdale elongated her curl hair, her energy was increased by the power of patience, nurtured resilient was displayed, rode the period on board.

Sailed across the ocean of inner, separated the waves swallowing wave, swept the clouds far behind.

Life was passed until the bottom of clarity, the view straight ahead rocking no doubt, unless pinch that sometimes blurred.

Fade was back to press the tight, enlarges the chest as much as the stretching of the eagles wings, floating to enjoy a livelihood.

And every word has breaths, like the glow reflecting on the glass wall;

whoever recites with intimate sonority, will be obtained the prosper adolescence.

Lasting beauty was not denied, because the poems capable raise the aura from the depths of the soul, despite being concentrated of despair.

Now allowed me, to interpret the work of Teasdale above, with the usual way of the tradition referenced the classical books.

If there is prudery, consider it is being sowing original sugar of sweeteners, in order not concentrated on just reason, but there are strains of soul, though it was difficult to understand.

Stepping so lightly is understood, with sincerity of heart, for the sake of time I hope to mature.

The night in Amalfi, Teasdale questioned the stars of sky, on the most proper song to be echoed for the sacrifice.

But only the silence screamed loudly on the elder land;
the answer of period at the side of grace. Which raised the ghosts of longing, from the past century.

There was writhing behind the consciousness;
the feeling infiltrated softly to open valance of memories, as if the door and window were wide opened to fulfill.

The stars tapering create endless conversations, to accommodate over abundance. I thought the mildness of heart after boiled by the black incident, break the cape and coral to shed all desire.

Teasdale was blanketed by the cold that hard to be described, but it is very noticeable on the heartbeat of quiet, fondle all over solitude of heavenly.

Keep asking in the crying of deeply tough tears, nirvana of her heart became rubble strewn, her tears was falling, salt grains of pain.

Her body vibration trembled raddle of lies on the country of puppets, swallowed by the real earth and not detained.

On quiet answer echoed distinctly to nook of the pain of whole hope. However, when take a deep breath, the odorous air of the night rejuvenated conscience of humanity.

The odd mirth of Teasdale souls presented, similar to the boy jumped out, rushed into the courtyard, saw the mother came home from the market.

How disappointed to know there was no gift, even it was just a candy, brittle and silence made him rolling on the ground.

The consciousness in the body mixes some of ancestor’s entity. She witnessed candor of poetry, which later will be interpreted by the breath of appreciation.

The silent of period, waving as long as curly long hair to retrace the dream, raised the memories of longing.

While your smile, always spreads the sincerity smells of the flowers of eternality.