A Poet always fools himself
Say he loves, but he doesn’t
Even when his words are gone
Will he accept to let them go?

He ends up being lonely
Many times he dazzled, the more he realized
Each pain is being written through reality
Why won’t it be eased by his poem?

If love is all that means to him
Happiness is the only reason to stop writing
At the end he sets all free beyond metaphors
Why doesn’t he just let it flow through time?

Words only keep growing stronger
Sentences were born from metaphors womb
She’s the gap in ballad of this poet.
But why do his feelings stuck on this poem?

''In spite of apprehending every detail of you in each poetry;
Keep pretending to tell countless lies on you.
Serendipity has guided me gently to your gravity.
Is it a probability or a fantasy?
You seem real, in the place you don't exist.''

How long does a flower needs to bloom?
Before it started dying slowly and surely
How long can I stay in these circumstances?
Before I started to weep, full of regrets?

Flowers only bloom and mature once
My love will only grow and come once
So beautiful but fragile
Already used to not disturbing you again
Really want to forget you but I can't

Why is it like this?
Why does the fog of hesitation comes to cover me?
Warping me in this indescribable feeling again
Engraving deep bitter wounds in my heart
Which expands, shattering my heart into a million pieces

Heartfelt words are not truthful
It has only set my heart to say a truthful lie
Perhaps I didn’t love, I didn’t feel pain, but I can't

Why did I think you were beautiful?
Why did I love you more than myself?
Why didn't you treat me equally?
Why?

Have I done something wrong?
All my words are fading
Like a blossomed Chrysanthemum that paled then withered

Being emotionless
A dandelion flown away blown by the wind of sorrow
My existence is unbearable for you
To keep admiring you makes me torn apart

Happiness is forever a shortage, as a flower which/that is mortal
Counting the remaining days from these remaining petals
Can I make it a little bit longer?

Memories of you slowly fades
Time will soon relieve you
Disappearing too fast

Leaving the dust of regret
Sighting full of woe
Crying gently and howling like a lonely wolf
Trying to release all the pain that must I suffer

I know we can't be together
Even I've already tried to show my affection
Even I've already tried to take care of you
Everything is so useless

The rotten fragrance of the wilted flower
Which is carried by the wind of sorrow
Lead me to far away from you
Fading all the memory
that I ever had of you...

If only I could be aware,
that I'm not the one that you want to possess;
Is it wrong, if I yearn you in my heart?

If only it could be accepted,
that our love does never exist;
Do I ever exist in your heart?

For those who want to loved but have been tired to be afflicted;
Who have been longing so long, but ended pathetically;
Who have always been being hurt , but heart wouldn't be tired to bear it,

Being aware, that the end of each apologue is neither sweet as fairytale nor embodied as lyrics of love songs.
Trying to negotiate with genuineness of the world and never finding any sorrow for falling in love again.
Is it alone facade or naivety of lovers?
Or could it be a circumvention for an old ballad?
Coffee will remain to be bitter as before, despite thou addest thy tears within.
Rain will remain to fall, even though thou cravest it to stop.
And memoir will be framed in the pasts with beloved.

*''Nevertheless will the love stay the same although thou play'dst with it again?''

Playing with unrequited affection,
Thoughts of her have lingered around.
Is it too late to ask for her love;
When colours have been so dull without her?

The moon is the only witness of my longing for you;
However you're the reason of my sleepless nights...

Remembering the reminiscence of old times.
The vulgarity of the world has led me to your side.
Playing with missing love, which I couldn't reinterpret.
Neverthless finding the reason of your leaving.

Stars are so high,
nevertheless they couldn't be grab by me;
Moon is so brilliant,
however I could only stare at it;
The most beautiful is you,
but I could only admire you every night.

Dengarlah gemuruh hujan pada malam hari ini;
Dengan irama tetesannya kebisuan dicurahkan;
Dalam kegelapan jua para pencari melangkah;
Menyusuri persimpangan jalanan yang basah;
Mungkinkah sudah keraguan mereka terhapuskan?
Ataukah praduganya telah menjadi satu bentuk prasangka,
Yang sekiranya kembali menolak untuk lagi-lagi berbicara?

Dengan satu sapuan halusnya kembalilah dikau sunyi menjadi hening,
Hening menjadi tiada, seperti tiada memunculkan hampa;
Lalu hampa pergi meninggalkan luka yang menganga pada dikau;
Hanya kesembuhan dari hujan yang dinanti mereka yang terluka;
Seperti juga berkat yang dinantikan dikau yang tak lelah menanti;
Memegang erat setiap butiran yang mungkin tak mampu dimiliki;
Mendengar irama yang selamanya tak mampu dimengerti;

Bersabdalah hujan pada semesta di malam hari ini;
Hanya kesunyian yang terus ia ajak bicara dalam isyarat;
Hanya kegelapan yang selamanya tak mampu ia lihat;
Pengheningan resah telah menjadi gundah sang hujan;
Seperti gundah itu sendiri menjadi gulana dikau;
Seperti dikau yang hadir dan hilang dalam rimbanya hujan,
Kembali dicari namun tak mampu dihilangkan.

Erinnerst du dich an einem letzten Regen im August?
Sein leidvolles Aroma grassiert in meinen fallenden Tränen,
Warum bleibt die Liebe im Kurzen wie sein Aroma?
JedesTropfchen manifestiert sich einen stilles Leid im Frühling.
Die geringe Momente können auswendig gelernt werden;
Wird aber die Zeit vollgeschätzt?
Wie kannst du vergessen werden?
Wenn alles über dir mit meinem Leben bereits verkörpert hat;
Ein Versprechen kann man vergessen;
Wirst du trotzdem meine Existenz vergessen?
In Ewigkeit bist du der Regen im August;
Mit deinem Tropfchen von meinen Augen erreiche ich dich.

Pada hari yang baik di bulan yang baik ini;
Hujan turun lagi membasahi segenap pertanahan;
Di balik bulirnya seorang pujangga termenung;
Menuliskan kembali lirik-lirik tersedih dalam puisinya:

Wahai imaji hujan di masa lalu;
Pernah kulupa namun mengapa belum kurela?
Wahai melodi hujan di masa lalu;
Kembali kau ketuk palung paling dalam;
Kehalusan suara wanita yang pernah ada;
Mengapa tak lenyap bersama kejatuhanmu?

Apakah lagi-lagi aku berdiri pada persimpangan yang sama?
Penuh kabut, memudar namun seyogianya belum sirna;
Tahun demi tahun telah berlalu bersama kejatuhan hujan;
Namun mengapa kesepian tak pernah berlalu?
Walau kesedihan menolak segala kefanaan;
Yang belum berubah menjadi sebuah kejadian;
Yang menolak segala bentuk pengulangan;

Apakah kekosongan merupakan bentuk realita tertunggal
Yang selamanya akan terus berbahasa dalam kebisuannya?
Mengapa masih aku mengaku yang tertabah;
Jika musibah tak mampu melenyapkan;
Segala terpaan angin rindu yang pernah berhembus?
Jika segala ketakuan masih menjadi ada dalam tiada;
Mengapa pernah juga kau lepas ikatan kita?

Perlahan kata-kata itu meresap kepada perakaran;
Sebolehjadinya ujung pena tak mampu memahami;
Segala makna yang tersirat dalam rampaian puisinya;
Bila kepergianmu adalah kesenduan dari berkat kehidupan;
Ajarkanlah aku berdamai dengan segala bentuk prasangka;
Yang datang bersama bayanganmu di kala hujan.

Hereabouts was inearthed the grief of an infatuate;
Beneath the moonlight and clinged by deception;
Thou, one and only sol in the murkiness;

Pour spilled, imbrued the prediction away from the windfall;
Thou, who laughed there then shivered forsakenly?
presumed a northwind that never ******* here;

Was life span soundless as the unnaturalness of the ambiguity?
conversed without confab, forsaken the anguish each one raindrops;
Hasten the broken heart in the wake of thee;

When silhouette remains anonymous, hence thou stand synonymous;
thence it's tiring to imitate its fascination;
how afflicts sweet taste of hyperbole from a guileless lip;

Thou laud me, when thou stare me in emptiness;
Thou palter me, when thou don't seek about my beauty;
Thou vanished, when thou don't see amore anymore...

Gäbe es keine weitere Wörter zum Sprechen ,
kann ich noch deine Schönheit beschmieren?
Würde der Wind nicht mehr wehen,
wem muss ich die Sehnsucht anvertrauen?
Könnte das Herz nicht mehr sprechen,
können die Tränen dir zugehen?
Würde dein Dasein nicht in meinem Leben existeren,
kann ich noch in jemanden verliebt sein?