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Continue reading “[CERPEN]: MENGGUGAT KAUM MARS”





SCENE I. An Apartment, San Francisco.

It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of ANNABEL LEE;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea;
But we loved with a love that was more than love-
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me-
Yes!- that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we-
Of many far wiser than we-
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride,
In the sepulchre there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.

-Annabel Lee, Edgar Allan Poe

There we sat, not in the kingdom by the sea, but in his own room, the clock on the far wall was clicking unrelentingly thus making such eerie sound reverberating to each nook and cranny; it was rather a peculiar night: still, dissolved like diluted ink, almost disquieting in its serenity.

I was a child and he was a child, though people would address us as mere teens with our blissful and joyous adolescence days, but here we were, not in the kingdom by the sea, with I reading this poem to him. I did not have to make him to listen to my regular reading because he had always been conveniently fascinated by it, maybe it was my voice or somewhere between the verse. I would never know. I liked it when he would be completely captured in my reading, tilting his head to one side without uttering a word, his careful eyes bored into mine, we barely broke the staring-contest just because I had memorized each word by the heart.

When I reminisce to this memory, it was vivid and bright, perfectly clear. Just like a pictureperfect memory, there was only he and I, with the limitations reaching infinity, crystallized in this moment forever. I restored it in the secret box at the back of my head.

Continue reading “[KISAH]: JINGGA KALA SENJA – AKSARA”