Ibu, ada cahaya jadi kelabu di langit; tapi
sekarang sudah pukul berapa, aku tak tahu.
Permainanku tak asyik lagi, maka biar saja aku
datang padamu. Ini hari Sabtu, liburnya kita.
Tinggalkan dulu kerjamu, ibu, duduk di sini
bersisi jendela lalu ceritakan padaku di mana
padang pasir Tepantar dalam dongeng itu?
Bayang-bayang hujan itu menutupi rapat
mendekap hari dari akhir hingga akhir.
Halilintar menyambar mencakar langit
dengan tajam jari-jari di tangannya.
Ketika awan gaduh dan hari dikepung badai
aku suka takut di hatiku, berpeluk padamu.
Ketika lebat hujan berderai berbilang jam
di daun-daun bambu, dan jendela rumah kita
berguncang, tersebab kencang hembus angin,
aku suka duduk sendiri di kamar, ibu, denganmu,
dan menyimak ceritamu: tentang padang
pasir Tepantar dalam dongeng itu.
Di manakah gurun itu, ibu? Di pantai laut apakah?
Di kaki bukit apakah? Di kerajaan siapa rajanya?
Tak ada pagar yang menanda batas ladang, tak
ada jalan setapak supaya orang desa bisa pulang
ketika sudah tiba malam, atau perempuan
dari hutan memikul kayu bakar ke pasar. Ada
petak-petak rumput kuning di pasir dan hanya
sebatang pohon di mana sepasang burung tua
membuat sarangnya, di padang pasir Tepantar.
Tak bisa kukhayalkan, bagaimana di hari
mendung itu putra belia raja memacu kuda
abu-abu, sendiri menempuhi gurun, mencari
putri yang terkurung di istana gergasi, di
seberang bentangan air yang entah.
Ketika kabut hujan datang dari langit jauh,
dan halilintar mulai menyambar bagai sakit
yang tiba-tiba terasa, ingatkah dia pada
ibunya yang gundah, ditinggalkan raja,
menyapu kandang lembu, dan menyeka
air matanya, sementara dia sang putra
memacu kuda di padang pasir Tepantar?
Lihatlah, ibu, hari nyaris gelap nyaris malam,
tak lagi ada musafir nun di jalan pedusunan.
Bocah gembala pulang lekas dari padang rumput,
dan lelaki meninggalkan ladang pulang, lalu duduk
beralas tikar di gubuk, melihat awan merengut.
Ibu, sudah kusimpan semua buku pelajaran di rak,
jangan dulu menyuruhku belajar lagi sekarang ini.
Nanti kalau aku besar seperti ayah, aku akan
pelajari semua yang memang harus dipelajari.
Tapi, mohon untuk hari ini saja, beri tahu aku,
ibu, di mana gurun Tepantar dalam dongeng itu?
* Syair ke-17 dari The Crescent Moon.
THE LAND OF THE EXILE
Mother, the light has grown grey in the sky; I do not know what
the time is.
There is no fun in my play, so I have come to you. It is
Saturday, our holiday.
Leave off your work, mother; sit here by the window and tell me
where the desert of Tepantar in the fairy tale is?
The shadow of the rains has covered the day from end to end.
The fierce lightning is scratching the sky with its nails.
When the clouds rumble and it thunders, I love to be afraid in my
heart and cling to you.
When the heavy rain patters for hours on the bamboo leaves, and
our windows shake and rattle at the gusts of wind, I like to sit
alone in the room, mother, with you, and hear you talk about the
desert of Tepantar in the fairy tale.
Where is it, mother, on the shore of what sea, at the foot of
what hills, in the kingdom of what king?
There are no hedges there to mark the fields, no footpath across
it by which the villagers reach their village in the evening, or
the woman who gathers dry sticks in the forest can bring her load
to the market. With patches of yellow grass in the sand and only
one tree where the pair of wise old birds have their nest, lies
the desert of Tepantar.
I can imagine how, on just such a cloudy day, the young son of
the king is riding alone on a grey horse through the desert, in
search of the princess who lies imprisoned in the giant's palace
across that unknown water.
When the haze of the rain comes down in the distant sky, and
lightning starts up like a sudden fit of pain, does he remember
his unhappy mother, abandoned by the king, sweeping the cow-stall
and wiping her eyes, while he rides through the desert of
Tepantar in the fairy tale?
See, mother, it is almost dark before the day is over, and there
are no travellers yonder on the village road.
The shepherd boy has gone home early from the pasture, and men
have left their fields to sit on mats under the eaves of their
huts, watching the scowling clouds.
Mother, I have left all my books on the shelf--do not ask me to
do my lessons now.
When I grow up and am big like my father, I shall learn all that
must be learnt.
But just for to-day, tell me, mother, where the desert of
Tepantar in the fairy tale is?
