IN THE OWL PENINSULA

There always arrive in the Owl Peninsula
waves that scramble for borders
unknown
to others.

Swarming, releasing
the bay’s palms, the row of rocks,
in the raucous crash
of the tide engraving a mark.

But this time the forest balm chooses the cumin colour
in the southern cove of the harbour.
Mid-May jubilee
when the fowls no longer flee.

While you will hear, too, the cry of the lighthouse
clashing against the mist, exposing the dark,
reaching out
for the weary boats,

the drooping sails
amidst hard drizzle, pattering drizzle,
where the skyline
ceases to blue, in the swollen late afternoon.

The next morning the bay will be dried up
and they will come home, all will come home,
the lobster hunters
to the shore that is no more.

And you ask whether tomorrow you will see again
the crescent moon, moving like a tightrope walker
in a twilight circus
between the rock peaks and the elm trees.

But in the Owl Peninsula, silence
is a solemn sound,
the murmur of hickory leaves: the helmsman’s voice
over the navigation map.

And you will go there, following his direction,
as if the waves, as if the waves
were blue, grey, always—
before they leave.

Di Jazirah Burung Hantu

Di Jazirah Burung Hantu

Di Jazirah Burung Hantu selalu datang
ombak yang saling memperebutkan batas
yang kita
tak pernah tahu.

Merambat, melepas
telapak teluk, baris cadas,
dalam suara sibuk
pasang yang menorehkan bekas.

Tapi kali ini balsam hutan memilih warna jintan
di ceruk selatan pelabuhan.
Pesta tengah Mei
setelah unggas tak pergi lagi.

Sementara kau akan dengar juga teriak mercu
menabrak kabut, menyibak gelap,
menggapai
kapal-kapal lunglai,

layar yang tiarap
di sela-sela grimis keras, grimis kerap,
kepada siapa akanan
berhenti membiru, dalam sore yang jadi sembab.

Paginya teluk akan timpas
dan akan pulang, semua pulang,
pemburu-pemburu udangkarang
ke pantai yang hanya bekas.

Dan kau bertanya adakah lusa akan kaulihat kembali
perbani, bulan yang jalan seperti gadis peniti tali
dalam sebuah sirkus senja
antara pucuk karang dan pohon elma.

Tapi di Jazirah Burung Hantu, sepi
adalah suara takzim
gumam darun-daun hikori: suara mualim
pada peta navigasi.

Dan kau akan datang ke sana, mengikuti arahnya,
seakan ombak, seakan ombak,
biru, kelabu, selalu—
sebelum pergi.