In 1981, she was a guest at the Poetry International festival in Rotterdam. She writes poems, both intimate and personal, that highlight repressive conventions. She is Indonesian poet with a creative and powerful vision.
THE MOON IS HIGH – The moon is high, not a crescent this time. On Gilimeno island, on the sandy beach, it glides beyond experience beyond the reach of my hand. The moon is high, pale and round, the drum beats, speckled silver-bright. The casuarinas dance, the waves lash out. The passion of life, love, their meaning pages that need to be sorted. The moon is high. Honey from Sumbawa in Mataram! Questions and answers are a bitterness, an angry honey moon very late, a distant, intermittent hum. After the TV has been switched off, and conversation has died down; after the boats have foundered. This time you have mastered the skill of throwing the safety rope from island to island. I have not yet drowned, I have not drifted, even though I have no anchor. A bewitching moon beckons Melbourne and Sidney-style property on the beach. Verandas draped with bougainvillea tall grasses and crotons will collapse in fear battered by storms, before this manuscript, this life story has reached its final age. The moon is high, clear as the tinkle of a bell. The sound of foreign cash spreads. The corals are desecrated, and the tourist’s dream. Wanderer, honey moon, lyrics of a song, fragments of a tune searched for and nearly found.
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