OLD TOWN, I DON'T HAVE POWER
Finally arrived at the old town
Which keeps the history of trade
And the story of the mighty sailors
Now this city is like a deer lost in the golden jungle
No more spirit
No more charm
A giant wave melts it
An old wharf that once rested on ships carrying jernang and nutmeg to Amsterdam and Havana
Mr. Ghoven who shouted orders to raise anchor in the city bay
Long time gone
Long before the tsunami showed its anger
There is another one who is cupa and missed
Earlier, I did not find an old poet who when he missed going back there quietly before the holiday
Then he harbored his memories in Lhok Buya
Coming home to collect Siti Rabumah's love which was taken by a neighbor's child until she moved to the city.
(How painful).
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This city has no pulse and gender
The old perish
Newly built without lines and colors
Just a monument
There is nothing written
Where will our children and grandchildren trace the past and explore stories and love in the depths of the city
The beautiful bay is now stunned
The old poet has stopped his lullaby
It's almost dusk
I said goodbye to a thousand questions
An old town that is getting old after being abandoned by the courtiers
Yes, a small city in the armpit of the ocean that is still listed in Wong Landa's almanac and atlas
Here she is forgotten in misery
Where is the ruler substitute retainer
Save Calang from becoming an ancient mummy
As a sign only a rigid monument was built there
No words without speaking
Calang
When will we meet face to face
I will reveal a secret