I cannot close my exhausted eyes
that are obedient to the monitor
of my tired black laptop computer.
Tonight I have neither coffee nor tea
but imagine somebody making some.

I am in an opera house in Vienna
watching Her Mozard being insane
driving his piano towards a desert:
the desert of elegant musical pride.
Suddenly I notice Beethoven walking
and taking over the beautiful piano.
In sadness, he played his song, called
An die Ferne Geliebte, in German,
meaning ‘To the Distant Beloved’
in the tongue of the English world.
.
Being close to Mozard and Beethoven,
I write two poems in the early new day.
The first one is "To the Distant Angel"
and the second I will name when I finish it.


Jogjakarta, 23 June 2003