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10 Examples of Wing Karjo's Poems

Wing Karjo and Examples of His Poetry- Wing Kardjo or many who write Wing Karjo is a poet who was born in Garut on April 23, 1937 and died in Japan on March 19, 2002. WIng Kardjo took his basic education at Tasikmalaya State Elementary and Middle School, Garut Catholic High School, B-1 French, Jakarta (1959). While a teacher at Kanisius High School Jakarta, he wanted to continue his studies at UI, but became a victim of beatings in hazing and forced him to enter the neurology department of the General Hospital.

After recovering, he moved to Ciamis, taught at a public high school, then moved to Unpad, became a teaching assistant before being sent to Paris at the end of 1962, to deepen the French language at the Institut des Professeurs de Francais a Etranger , Sorbonne, Universite de Paris , and managed to get several certificat and Diplome de Litterature Francaise Contemporaine.

After the scholarship period expired, in 1965, he did not immediately return to his homeland, but continued to study while working part-time and only returned in early 1968, and returned to his alma mater, Unpad. Has taught at Seskoad and Jakarta Arts Education Institute. He just officially became a literature scholar with his thesis "Les Problemes pratiques de la traduction poetique" in 1973.

Only a few of his works have been published, including Modern French Poems in Two Languages ​​(Pustaka Jaya, 1972), Selembar Daun (Pustaka Jaya, 1974), Housing (Budaja Djaja, 1975), and Prince Kecil/Antoine St. Exupery (Pustaka Jaya, 1979),
Night Fragment(Pustaka Jaya, 1975) andP ohon Hayat: Pick up Haiku(Bandung Literature Forum, May 2002. In addition, he also wrote a number of essays, and a short, semi-biographical novel, published under the titleMask.



Here are 10 examples of Wing Karjo's poems that you can listen to.


Far away

As if life has to live you
who are far, farther away
just like a shadow
shadow under the shady tree

You're out of sight but you
don't die like a dream either.
Is there something you've always been waiting for
even though the days go by?

Maybe evening and shadows
the shadow of summer is
getting longer, more anxious

yellowing leaves approaching
fall. The days are just getting
shorter. Later, look forward to it!



Ancestor

1.
Grass. The waves in
the sea. Shark, shark, you
forget who your grandson is. At the head of the rhino
river. Salak of wolves in the jungle of the city.

My room is there, with a musty roof,
glass walls, raffle ceilings,
seventy five million. Let's stay up
late, play cards, drink wine, eat rhymes,
talking blowjob, prancing
prancing, screaming! Dizzy cassette
groan the meat. Cheap entertainment.

In the past, the nayuban karuhun
was until the morning, drinking sopi
embrace dancers, live in a dream gamelan.


2.
It was the colonial era
We are much more mature, so
simple in the free world. Between
huts and mansions, goods abound.

Breakfast gaping: milk coffee, toast and matasapi.
Extra orange juice. What kind of chicken
lay eggs without sex eat vitamins in the
embryo? Love needs a kitchen, a bed.

Grass. The waves in the
sea. Shark, shark, you forgot
who is your grandson. You used to think happy.

We, day by day
cultivate ourselves
with a dream loan.



Contemplation

7-7-7 that's all every night I hope it goes down 7-7-7
That's all I pray to God. rotating images,
the bars won't come out. Neither do the stars
want to stop circulating in a horizontal/diagonal line.

I call the ancestors from their rest that
calm down to help me win
heart pounding. Even though the stars
fall and 7-7-7 line up in order,
tomorrow round, just repeated again here. my prayers
back into hell. Hot lust
win. Cold fear of losing, over and over again.

7-7-7 that's all my reflection 7-7-7
every night full of stars
crosswise.



Source

I always drink your eyes,
faith appreciates the day
I didn't think that
leaf by leaf fell
bury your body in
darkness. That's the sun
lying down, burning
yellow grass.

The sky breathes
silent, blows a song
dry. When the
bell rings, I think you
home, I opened the
door, the wind was mute.



Notes

1.

Taking notes with junk tools, that's
my life. I have to start again. Mom, where are
you from? From a baby who wants to be rushed
the neighboring Dutch woman?
You're scared to the point of having to move
cities so that I run away from the same city
one city to another. Mother, who
am I? I was born from your womb. It
Certain. Then school, then work.

And I must be a bad teacher.
What science do I teach?
Kind? Humanity?
Trading tools?
Connecting tools?


2.
I should be content with teaching languages.
But not. I learned to speak again,
also with a, b, c, which means uncertain.

I don't want to teach that a chair
is just a chair, but for example
position, power. My knowledge
is finally nothing but a shadow
everyday reality.

What is important? Life?
Also maybe not, since it's mortal
said the Javanese. Money?
Nor of course not, because that
too is just a tool. And we all know
unless we ( ... )



And you too

And you ask is there
anything beautiful
of my life?
Sure, sure, but
it's already sunk
during. Then you ask: Is there?

what's good about me?
Sure, sure but
still hidden, deep
dream until you're still

himself, alien to his true self.



Forest

The silent hum
rises with the morning
fills the bitter sky.

At the bottom of the
moon skeleton forest
black.

Quiet echo creeps with slang

burn the desert.

At the bottom of the
boat skeleton night
shipwreck.



Rhymes in the Wind

Give me dreams like
a thousand candles,
never stop
in cold nights

until it's dark, I don't
want to fix it anymore
in my room, a space
that knows no rest, So we

didn't even run out,
opened my eyes singing
carefree songs about thousands

memories of longing

don't know the shadows



Twilight Portrait

After all the dreams fall asleep
Can I stretch it again?
Besides soft hands without lust
Touch your body
Live in life
Regular
But it's getting closed
And run away
After all the dreams fall asleep
What else can I extend
Except age
elongate
So the shadows
Dim…



L'espoir

War for the victors
Hit the drums
Coffin stretcher
Like a noble ceremony
War for the lame
Revenge the enemy
Rusty corpse
With a treacherous curse
The one who hits with a whole soul
Strong Armed,
The fragile one
Torn apart, fall!
War for the victors...
Hit the drums