Sahaya Santayana (Indonesia)

Sahaya Santayana (Indonesia)
Sahaya Santayana is an Indonesian poet, born in Pontianak,West Kalimantan, Indonesia, December 12, 1995. Writes since 2014 at the Sanggar Sastra Tasik (SST). Now settled in the city of Tasikmalaya, West Java, Indonesia. His poems have been published in several newspaper and online media, and his poem are also included in the Joint Poetry Anthology, both Nationnaly in his country and Internationally.
Many times I held back pain
Colonization after colonization framed life
Without increasingly crowded and difficult wages
Paid with battered slaughtered words
I bury it as deep as the ocean floor
Where the surface is just as mocking
Like a cinema room that can be soundproof
Or artificial lake in the middle of the city
The pressure always haunts my body
Racing with a number of sanctions and threats
Which almost made a dead poem
Which came suddenly appeared
Like witnessing an accident on a screen
As I thought swallowed by darkness
Inside the train carriage is so quiet
The are no passengers other than I sit
Like empty house without human
Or you, who never fills the heart’s room
Inside the train carriage is so quiet
Drizzle went down as long as my mind
His spatter rifer in the afternoon window
Like light claws that flashbed
From the station to the station I passed
Sticking whistle always sound sharp and loud
Piercing deposit departure
I am in no way everywhere
My mind followed the flow of the rail stuck on earth
Like belt circling on your waist
I stay myself for a moment in this city
After traveling from the East
My distant monitoring came to look at you
Where the building never clawed the sky
Even in the afternoon it rolled slowly into night
Like to pulling blankets covering your body
After hearing a series of noise
Among the fate and ideals that charge me
On highway vehicles with each other speed
The roar of the exhaust solve silence
Like two cats fighting on the hall
Poetry never breaks will be arrival
I also studied in silence and watched
On the sidelines of my alienation that stops
for DM
Quitt my poem in another language
So you understand the whole contents of words
Like view painting or photo in the room
Color is a signal between ignorance
On the table my papers piled up
Every day scraping the expression
Among the heart and my hand that complained
The written like to prayers who spilled in the middle of the night
Even though the pages always pass you read
But loyalty is like a sleeping newspaper
On the edge of the city road waiting for a living buyer
Similar search for blood flowing in the pulse
Chasing something that is misprinted – something else
Where I am a boat from Your wind
Translated from Indonesian by Amoy Purwanto

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