Taufiq Ismail

Nine Sea Gulls of Tuan Yusuf

(English version)

Now imagine I was holding the fence
of Tuan Yusuf’s first grave
and had a close look of the earth
that once absorbed his corpse.
Then observe my exit from the mausoleum
visiting the next four graves with four parallel markers
no names engraved except 99 Adjectives of God.
Four remains lay parallel here
they might be Tuan Yusuf’s
ulama, field commanders
they might be from Makassar, Bugis or Banten

Now imagine a black cannon
pointing at Africa’s horizon.
Follow me stepping back three centuries
remembering the West Java battles
when Tuan Yusuf was chief commander

Listen to the Faure wind whining
coming from two oceans shaking hands
at the northernmost cape
or at the freezing South Pole

Look at the leaves drifting in autumn
around the reddish bay
whispering softly whenever colours come and go

Can we picture Tuan Yusuf the sufi
deep, zikr enveloping his soul
his thought flowed through bamboo split pens
in red and black ink
seeping into three languages

Fantasize bones of the brave one
in a coffin
sailing more than 10,000 kilometers through two oceans
the west wind slapping seven sails
at the Celebes shores threw anchor
and people sobbing, lowering Syeikh Yusuf solemnly
into Lakiung earth
close to the place where his mother Aminah
bleeding giving birth

It is burdensome for me
to draw the imaginary lines of your face
as photography did not belong to your century
no painter was ever assigned by the bureaucracy
to do your five colour acrilic portrait
but I just envision
the masculine face of a 65 years old,
penetrating and enlightening eyes
light beard, deep voice, slim physique
speaking fluent Makassar Bugis Arabic Dutch and Malay

Those Low Land people were scared of you
the Governor and managers
of the crooked VOC business
deep down respected you.
But they had to exile you to Batavia, Ceylon,
and further 10,000 kilometers to Africa
as they did not want to be distracted
collected gold coins
neatly catalogued in iron imperialist trunks

Syeikh Yusuf, what was the format and physiology
of your genius and fearlessness?

Now have a look at the fog turning into round clouds
slipping down the Table Mountain
gracefully
facing two oceans

I feel autumn winds saying
you enjoy freedom today because three centuries ago
Syeikh Yusuf trampled barbed bristling weeds
and conquered forests of rattan thorns
for you

I hear zikr flows
dissolved into seven sea gulls flying
their wings rippling and singing.

Cape Town, 26 April, 1993.
translated by Taufiq Ismail

Indonesian version

Sembilan Burung Camar Tuan Yusuf

Sekarang bayangkanlah saya memegang terali kubur pertama
Tuan Yusuf,
dan memandang bekas tumpak bumi
yang pernah menating jenazahnya.
Kemudian lihat saya keluar bangunan itu,
pergi ke empat kuburan dengan empat nisan berjajar,
tiada bernama tapi berukir Asmaul Husna.
Di situ empat orang terbujur
mungkin ulama, mungkin komandan pasukan
Tuan Yusuf,
mungkin orang Makasar, Bugis atau Banten.

Kemudian bayangkan sebuah meriam bercat hitam
menunjuk cakrawala langit Afrika.
Ikutilah kini saya surut tiga abad mengingat-ingat
jalan pertempuran ketika Tuan Yusuf jadi komandan.

Dengar angin bertiup di Faure waktu itu
mungkin dari dua samudera yang bersalam-salaman
di tanjung paling ujung
mungkin juga suhu dingin dari Kutub Selatan.

Lihat dedaunan musim rontok pada dedahanan
mengitari teluk bermerahan
yang berbisik-bisik menyanyi ketika warna ganti berganti.

Dapatkah kita membayangkan
Tuan Yusuf
seorang sufi yang cendekia
zikir membalut tubuhnya karangan mengalir
melalui kalam terbuat dari sembilu bambu
dengan dawat berwarna merah dan hitam jadi buku
dalam tiga bahasa

Lantas fantasikan tulang-belulang seorang pemberani
tersusun dalam peti
berlayar lebih 10.000 kilometer lewat dua samudera
suara angin dari barat menampar-nampar tujuh layar
di pesisir Celebes buang jangkar
lalu orang-orang bertangisan menurunkan Tuan Yusuf penuh hormat
ke dalam bumi Lakiung dekat tempat
ibunya Aminah bertumpah darah melahirkannya.

Wahai sukarnya bagiku mereka-reka garis wajahmu
ya Syekh
karena rupa tuan tidak direkam dalam fotografi abad ini
tidak juga dibuatkan lukisan pesanan pemerintah
dalam potret cat akrilik lima warna
namun kubayangkan sajalah kira-kira
wajah seorang sangat jantan, 65, bermata tajam,
bernafas ikhlas berjanggut tipis bersuara dalam bertubuh langsing
berbahasa fasih Makasar Bugis Arab Belanda dan Melayu.

Orang-orang Tanah Rendah itu takut pada Tuan.
Dan sebenarnya di lubuk hati Gubernur
dan manajer-manajer maskapai dagang VOC
yang gemar menyalakan meriam dan mesiu itu
mereka kagum pada Tuan.
Tapi mereka mesti membuang Tuan ke Batavia, Ceylon,
lalu 10.000 kilometer ke benua ini
karena mereka tak mau tergaduh dalam pengumpulan uang emas
disusun rapi dalam peti-peti terbuat dari kayu jati dengan bingkai besi
begitu kubaca catatan mereka.

Apa format dan fisiologi kecendekiaan dan kejantananmu ya Syekh?

Perhatikan kini kabut jadi gulung-gemulung mega,
lepas meluncur cepat dari Gunung Meja
yang memandang dua samudera.

Aku merasakan angin musim gugur bulan April berkata
kau merdeka hari ini karena tiga abad lalu
Syekh Yusuf
telah membabat hutan rotan dan menyibakkan ilalang berduri untukmu.

Aku mendengar zikir mengalir
lewat sembilan burung camar
yang sayapnya seperti berombak menyanyi.

Cape Town, 26 April 1993.

Does the Sound of Pines

for Ati

Does the sound of pines
Whistle and roar at you
Do you hear for one fleeting moment
The rustling of leaves coming loose

The lines of blue hills
Break out into a melody
Banks and ranks of cloud
Sparkle like gold jewelry

Does the sound of pines
Whistle and roar at you
Do the wide oceans of corn
Churn those waves of sound.

1973
translated by Toenggoel P. Siagian

Adakah Suara Cemara

buat Ati

Adakah suara cemara
Mendesing menderu padamu
Adakah melintas sepintas
Gemersik dedaunan lepas

Deretan bukit-bukit biru
Menyeru lagu itu
Gugusan mega
Ialah hiasan kencana

Adakah suara cemara
Mendesing menderu padamu
Adakah lautan ladang jagung
Mengombakkan suara itu

1973