Whom You’re Never Told
She pleads with her mantras for years—endless
In a hill so tranquil, where she is—she always is
There she dwells untold, whom you never know—whom you’re never told
Bearing the name; Ujung Geni.
The Javanese herbalist who cheats
Time and death.
She broods in her thoughts no other than
To live, to live, to live, and to live
To live nowhere other than in her hill so tranquil
She lives more than the trees and times bore, more than love;
Ujung Geni, alone with her thoughts,
In her hill so tranquil.
Three musky cumin family of parsley, a branch of senthe,
Roasted parkia seed, petals of wijaya kusuma, buds of clove,
A finger long aromatic ginger and turmeric,
Altingia excelsa just a bark, dripped with essence
Of fermented cassava. Mesoyi, slice a little.
ethereal oil—Cinnamomum sintoc blume.
Powder them all,
Bathe with them,
Breathing their fumes
In a hill so tranquil, where she is—where she always is
Longer with spells written, mantras spoken, jamu can fulfill.
With the earth buttering all spices, bearing her will,
To live forever more with jamu no pottery can infill.
For ages long she lives indeed till death favors
her no more.
She knows to live but not to live for.
In a hill so tranquil, even the hill dismal, where she lives
She belongs but what is it for? These scars in eternal bearers
All tiresome mantras in gazillion styles and songs.
She begs to live no more.