Letter for Sulasih

 

I wrote this letter

When it rains in january

As a sign of the rice growing season

My sulasih

I love you

 

Sulasih,  not tired of me loving you

You shared the paint monalisa by Leonardo da' Vinci

Has a hight intuitive value

Ashamed of me not to look at you

 

Oh, sulasih

With a set of prayer tools and five gram gold ring

I intended to propose to you

I guide you to Holy altra of marriage

Even I am ready to be willing accept and learn the custom of your village

 

I will die if I don't have a dream

Like Andrea Hirata in his book Laskar Pelangi

Which tells the story of poor young people of Malay

Speaking like a man who is rowing

Like Rome's appeal to Juliet

 

Now you've gone a long way there

Which I remember once in a while

The smell of kasturi on your back

What I hold becomes a love story treaties

 

Now I'd trather do it myself

Without the help of your kiss

I'm biased

I failed to compose the language

 

The more real the kiss touches you

Everyday is getting less and less felt

The more I don't feel

The more I forget what it feels like

 

I 'd rather see your 3x3 photo maze

I can imagine whatever I want

With your heels I can remember the imagination with you

Ten years and even a hundred years ago with you.