Sunset in a Small Port - Chairil Anwar
(for Sri Ajati)
This time, nobody’s seeking for a love
Among stores and old houses, among tales
Of masts and riggings. Vessels and boats, anchored,
Are whispering themselves to willingly get cleaved.
Shower’s dragging the gloom faster than ever. An eagle’s flight
Pokes at so grimly, and the day elopes, swimming,
Yielding to the lure of the horizon. Unmoved
are the land and the waveless sea, slumbering.
Nothing else. All alone, I’m walking
Pace by pace down the cape, chest suffocated by hopes
To reach its tip and altogether to wave goodbye
From the fourth beach, my last weep forborne.
1946
*Translated by… ehem-ehem… me… 
Chairil Anwar is one of major Indonesian poets from the Generation ‘45 of Indonesian Literature. In his short life, 27 years, he crystallized the spirit of Indonesia (of his age, of course) during the revolutionary era in his works, works that are celebrated to this day, after more than half a century since his death.