Yu Dafu: in the Cradle of Distant Lands

The cool, damp earth beneath his feet,  
Where shadowed paths and silence meet,  
He cast his words like fragrant seeds,  
In fertile lands where exile bleeds.

The expatriate whispers in the air,  
Became a symphony rare and fair,  
His voice a lantern, softly lit,  
Guiding through the darkness bit by bit.

In the village’s tranquil hum,  
Where cicadas sing and palm trees drum,  
He found a refuge, not of gold,  
But in the stories that he told.

His ink, like rain on thirsty ground,  
In every line, a truth was found,  
In Payakumbuh’s hidden grace,  
He carved his mark, a sacred space.

As twilight draped its violet shawl,  
In Singapore, where shadows fall,  
His life’s last chapter softly penned,  
In every word, his spirit’s blend.

Yu Dafu, in the realm of dreams,  
Where moonlight casts its silver beams,  
Your legacy in whispers lives,  
In every land your heart forgives.

Your stories flow like rivers wide,  
In every dusk, your stars abide,  
From Payakumbuh to distant shore,  
Your pen remains forevermore.

In lush, green realms and distant skies,  
Your words are stars that never die,  
A bridge of thought from East to West,  
In every heart, you find your rest.

Padang, West Sumatra, Indonesia, 2024
----

This poem, originally penned in Indonesian languange as part of Leni Marlina’s personal collection on August 2024, was later refined, translated, and first published in digital format by the author on September in the same year. The first original published version of this poem is available on

https://satupenasumbar.id/in-the-cradle-of-distant-lands/