10 Examples of Sitor Situmorang's Poems

Sitor Situmorang and Examples of His Poems- Sitor Situmorang was born on October 2, 1924 in Harianboho, North Sumatra. His childhood was spent in a traditional environment, in an environment of oral literary traditions that speak the Batak language. Since childhood he listened to sermons in the Bible language, through translation into the Batak language. He likes to listen to folk songs. He was full of poetic ideas and literary forms without theory in various ceremonies.

His artistic blood was further honed when he was educated at school. He completed elementary and junior high school in the interior of the Batak. After he moved to Jakarta in 1941, he continued his education at various schools HIS, MULO, AMS. He has also deepened his knowledge of cinematography in Los Angeles, United States.

Sitor's poems by many observers are referred to as milestones that represent the new development of Indonesian poetry. Harry Aveling, Director of the Asian Studies School of Social Science at La Trobe University, Australia, sees that Sitor Situmorang's poems contain many reflections on his religious experiences as a Christian. He dubbed Sitor Situmorang the "great poet" because he continued to work for more than 60 years and produced more than 600 poems.

Not only poetry, Sitor is also involved in the world of translation. He translated John Wyndham, E. Du Perron, R. S. Maenocol, M. Nijhof. Sitor's various literary works have been published, including Surat Kertas Hijau (1953), In Sajak (1955), Unnamed Faces (1955), Drama Jalan Mutiara (1954), the short story Battle and Snow in Paris (1956). Other literary works, which have been published, include the New Age poetry (1962), the short story Pangeran (1963), and the Essay Sastra Revolutionary (1965).

It was this Revolutionary Literary Essay that imprisoned Sitor Situmorang in the Gang Tengah Salemba prison (1967-1975), Jakarta, without going through a judicial process. He was simply put into custody on charges of being involved in rebellion. Until he got out of prison, Sitor never knew what he had done wrong. Sitor was not allowed to enter detention with a pen or paper. However, even though he is in prison, Sitor is still looking for ideas to work.

He managed to release two literary works that he managed to compose while in detention, namely Walls of Time (1976) and Travel Map (1977). The two works were launched still in the status of Sitor not being free, 100% pure because when he was later released, Sitor again had to serve two years under house arrest.

His short story collection Battle and Snow in Paris (1956) won the 1955 national literary prize, the collection of poems Peta Journey received prizes from the Jakarta Arts Council 1976, autobiography: Sitor Situmorang Sastrawan 45, Poet Lake Toba (1981); local history: Toba na Sae (1993) and Guru Somalaing and Modigliani Utusan Raja Rom (1993).

Okay, buddy.. Admin thinks it's pretty clear about the explanation of Sitor Situmorang's life journey and his various literary works. Below are 10 of Sitor Situmorang's poems that you can listen to.


The Lost Child

A rich man had two sons,

Two teenagers of different temperaments,

Dear Father,

How will separate the blood?

The eldest son is diligent and diligent,

Farming, carpentry, caring for animals,

All day working in the garden,

Preserving ancestral heritage.

The youngest son likes to go to parties,

Cruises where young people gather,

Rice in the fields, animals breed in the mountains,

Be his right, without work.

Night goes, comes home in the early morning,

Work the Youngest all year round,

Leave the Eldest toiling,

Back at night closing the cage.

Finally the village is too quiet,

To the beauty, the market whiz,

Cut off – He's going to town, gone,

Armed with an inheritance given by my father.

Glorious city full of colors of the world,

Make the Youngest drunk happy,

Eating, drinking, joking,

With a good singing friend.

Wealth runs out – The land is starved,

The raging plague brings misery,

Remember the Youngest, how happy,

If only he was a servant at Father's house.

To live, the youngest took work,

Servant in people's house, lowest level,

Animal cages for lodging

To eat, given leftovers.

The youngest then realized, he had to go home,

(waving hometown)

Near Father among young slaves,

be a helper brother

One evening he came from afar,

Seen to my father on the embankment,

The place is waiting every evening,

Pray for the child to remember coming home.

The father ran to meet his son,

Hugged her while sobbing,

The youngest was touched, then prostrated:

“Father, I sinned. I deserve your slave."

The father immediately called relatives,

Ask the sheep to be prepared for sacrifice,

Celebrating the happy day of the people –

My son is gone, back in the lap!

From the field the Eldest returned,

Hear the crowd sing,

My daddy's a party, what's a novelty,

Excuse me, beyond my knowledge?

The neighbor said: Don't you know?

Your sister came home, from overseas,

So we feast, pour honey,

Drink wine to your heart's content.

The Eldest turned away, left alone.

In the middle of the sad field stands,

Think of fate, what a waste,

Spend your working life faithfully.

The father feels, the father sees,

The faithful child moans,

He comes, pleading lovingly:

Aren't you happy my dear child?

Your sister is home, after a long absence!

My love to you. All my treasure

is yours. This your sister

more than sheep, deserve pity!

The Eldest turned away, then ran to the house,

Meeting his sister, standing on the threshold,

They face to face, hands about to kill,

Lunglai – caress the crown of my dear sister.

Ancestral World

The forest is a shadow

ancestral spirit

enter the body

planting bamboo

let the hometown warm

green leaves

greener when it's lush

Woven by the wind

the spirit perched on the crown

spearhead

stuck in the ground

knit live thread

the time i went through

hunter trail

in the mountains

bird

in the moon night

live from silence

drink from weed leaves

be a genie

so palm fiber

be clay

become a rock

become a lake

be the wind

spun rope

my walk to that world

Malioboro Yogya Morning

Daily life rhymes

never ending,

chinese shop architecture rhythm

and the roofs of old Yogya

lift the dream

fly high

until you stumble

the peak of Merapi

reach the sky

receipts

(taxi drivers chat

in the hotel lobby

hook my presence on earth)

daily play

play every morning

Malioboro wakes up

in a flood of songs

modern street

meet the smell of tourists

trade colors and steps

village to city

the student

the young poet

the tramp

old myths

busy dating

with the city

my yoga

always old

always young

Good morning!

Advanced Cosmology

waterfall

out-of-scale effect

aquarelle

turmoil –

Earth

crushed mastodon

plains

booming

quiet

Forest

frozen on the horizon

time

wind -

on

tree

in the former jungle

hut

smoky

crust

hooded

dry grass

field

lebuh

isolated

above the lava

flood

cry

frenetic tractor

grin

giant

stay wind –

rain -

Sun -

Borobudur One Day

mmmmmmmm

mmmmmmmmmmm

ooommmmmmmmmmmm

the echo of the surrounding mountains

spell 30000 stonecutter

prayer 4000 stylist

remembrance 1500 engraver

single

solid in 2 million cubic andesite

temple building

a thousand years

ooommmmmmmmm

mmmmmmmmmmmmm

mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

golden bell

great monk

Gautama Siddhartha

led to longing

across time

level 5 court

at 1460 jataka

climb higher

on the ladder of dhukka sky

take off form

achieve release

in 3 suwung courts

stages

32 x buddhas

24 x buddha

12 x buddhas

to the unseen

in the great stupa

present anatta

no color

unsightly

To High Peak Climbers

In the blue air, 5000 meters above the sea,

Upright climber. black figure,

Curled by the gray cold wind,

At his feet snow. White bandaged peak.

My greetings to you, brave Son,

From your height looms samadi,

The conquering man, the eternal heir,

Great ideals, reaching the sky.

Space, man and earth intertwine,

In the light of the inventor's human eye,

Ready to dive yourself to the bottom of the heart,

Rising up to meet the sun.

In fear surely nests death,

In the fertile courage of human creation,

Peak after peak you climb,

For the calling of life to serve.

But the highest peak must be climbed,

It is the pain that lifts near

on divine power.

 

The dream

I

In all letters waiting for the name

On all letters await the name

II

On all water is attached a screen

On all the water drooping sails

III

In all eyes waiting for the light

In all eyes the light awaits

The Death of a Boxing Champion

Has happened too

Law of the gods

Don't give a name

what did he die?

Hear the story

Parent's story

I pass it on to the readers

All over the country he is famous champion

The champion who always wins

And people just give up

Hear all the stories

No one dares

No one wants

Refuting his words

In shops

When drinking palm wine fiercely

Besides being a champion, he is also a hunter

If not deer, wild boar are the prey

Where is the champion, also the hunter

Good at dancing

Make beautiful carvings

And strumming the harp...

He likes to get drunk

And when he curses

Nothing is wrong

But of all the victims

His wife suffers the most

Two children were born

One boy, one girl

None of his father's favorites

People say: "Where is it anyway?"

Son is born, father is at gambling.”

It's time for a boy to be married

It was negotiated

Child: I'm too young.

The father: Marry as you like, as long as you don't go blind

Mother: Marry, son, it's good to have friends

The girl is silent

Nothing comes out

Her heart is torn between a patient mother

And the cruel father.

Finally done

With the girl of his mother's choice

And the father was stubborn from the start

Just because it wasn't his choice

Year after year, champion getting older,

Girls are grown, but not married.

Also the son-in-law doesn't fulfill his wish

The grandson awaited did not come too.

“Where is only one boy

Son-in-law of dead fields

Kill you all."

That's the curse of the champion

In the days of losing gambling

The boy doesn't care

Decide to go wander

Said to the sobbing mother:

"I'm not going home, don't wait

Or you have to die."

stay mom

With girls

No one proposes, I'm afraid the father is cruel

Now only hunting

Forget gambling

And remember the child who left

Long awaited

News comes from afar

Daughter-in-law dies in the region

From the mother's throat let out a sigh:

“Such is fate

Nice birth

Abandoned the living

Left the dead."

Then he waits

In the shadow of the dim moon

They live together now

The old champion is gone

Marry again

Hope boy

Before death

No one came back

The winner gets three children

No boy

And one day

He feels old

Datu said:

“Have a party

Pray for God's grace

Invite the first wife

But children especially."

Champion with a heavy heart

Send a letter

Ask your wife and children to come

Then he waits

Homecoming messenger

Bring contradictory news

Children come, children do not come

The champion's heart is filled with doubt

Maybe come, maybe not

And to forget

He went hunting

Waiting for children's day

Maybe come, maybe not

He hunts on the mountainside

outside the village

All day

He's waiting

Towards the evening

In the village arrived children and wives

Champion doesn't know

Fun hunting

At night he is carried

Bloody chest

People say: "It can't be helped anymore

Death demands already."

Then laid in the middle of the house

Close to wife and children

Long awaited

Then die

Back already, back champion

Champions come home from deer hunting...

Climbing Merapi Gazing at Borobudur

(Twilight Dialogue)

on the cliffs of the valley

I see twilight

Merapi Crater

part of the pilgrimage

Sufi without tarekat

miss free

in longing

free time

and place

fall in the sigh of the mountain wind

floating

in the clouds

go home with the birds

to the forest

enter the shadow

in freedom and

depth

conversation without words

wrapped in the wind

and silence

inner universe

Look as Old as Earth

In the lines of her waist

the taluts of my longing slipped

in the pops of her hips

the future unfolds

on the edges of her navel

keep quiet

increase in unexpected

in the depths of his eyes

as old as the earth

Digital Password

The voice is clear

passion miss

read rhymes

by phone

innocent message

closed at the same time

in semiotic code

clear boundaries

between Markers

and the Marked

washed away by flood

language without words

want news

some

just a word

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