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Lotus Poems: Ode to a Great Flood By WS Rendra
Ode to a Great Flood By WS Rendra Between three mountains embracing the moon. From a broad arm of steel emerges one thousand hands. ………………………. In a great flood that is unexpected people survive not because of strength, not because of intelligence, but because of the element of chance. Of the strong and the intelligent…
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Lotus Poems: Emptiness is Full of Power By WS Rendra
Emptiness is Full of Power By WS Rendra Habit is not personality Personality is also not a delusion about ourselves. Personality comes from emptiness. When we are empty we are agile and alert. In emptiness, we can respond to anything, according to the circumstances and not based on habit. The full are rigid and lumbering…
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Short Story: Bitter Covid By Seno Gumira Ajidarma (Standard)
“The ambulance drivers are exhausted. The grave diggers feel like they’ve got no hands left. The preachers are praying 24 hours a day…”
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Poem of an Old Person Under a Tree By WS Rendra
Poem of an Old Person Under a Tree By WS Rendra This is my poem, an old person standing under this barren tree, holding both hands behind my back, and in my mouth a clove cigarette that’s dead. I behold the age. I see the state of the economy in shop windows full of foreign…
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Obit: Poet Toeti Heraty Noerhadi
The Jakarta Arts Council expresses its deepest condolences at the passing of poet, academic, and patron of the arts, Ms Toeti Heraty Noerhadi. She served as member of the Jakarta Arts Council (1968 – 1971), Chair of the Jakarta Arts Council (1982 – 1985), member of the Jakarta Academy, and Chancellor of the Jakarta…
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History: Proyek Tahun 1619 The New York Times
Proyek Tahun 1619 The New York Times
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Short Story: The Laughter of the Girl from the Garbage Dump By Ahmad Tohari
Korep, Carmi, and Driver Dalim are three of the many people who often visit the garbage dump on the outskirts of town…
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Short Story: The Clown With The One-Legged Man By Ratna Indraswari Ibrahim
The Clown with the One-Legged Man by Ibrahim Ratna Indraswari Tom, you do still remember, don’t you, when Mr Clown’s mother passed away (the clown we’ve loved since we were children), how throngs of people arrived to pay their respects. At the time we were just ten years old…