I saw burning fields in their eyes,
Forests felled to the ground,
Seas raging from the spillage of black oil.
"This homeland is not for sale,"
They cried, their voices rumbling like a storm.
"Not to be traded in the dark global market,
Not for the searing heat of capitalism that drains life.
We have paid an immeasurable price,
To keep this land green."
4)
They stretched their hands toward me,
Their skin like charred wood, scorched by war,
Yet they stood tall,
Like ancient trees challenging the storm.
"There is no gold more precious
Than the blood we have shed,
No wealth greater
Than the freedom we have carved
With wounds in our chests and soil in our hands."
They ignited the air with their presence,
Making the sky weep with drizzle,
But I knew, those were their tears.
I gasped, my breath caught,
Yet I could not look away,
I could not flee from their gazes,
Piercing my soul like drawn swords.
"This earth must not be pawned,
We are shadows beneath your feet,
Do not mortgage the land we have guarded."
I felt the earth tremble beneath my steps,
As if the land spoke,
From the invisible bones,
From the blood still flowing in the roots of trees.
That night felt eternal,
Yet I knew,
Though they lay buried,
Their love for this land
Would never fade.
Like a fire that keeps burning,
Like stars piercing through the night.
Padang, West Sumatra, Indonesia, 2018
---
This poem was first written in Indonesian by Leni Marlina as part of her personal poetry collection in 2018. With sincere effort, it was later edited and translated, and it was shared digitally for the first time in 2024. You can find the original Indonesian version through this link:
https://orbitindonesia.com/detail/29352/Malam-di-Taman-Makam-Pahlawan
