The ballad Princess in the slave shack

Dusk golden color when it's beautiful daughter arrived at the guest house servants. Three swans as white frangipani flowers with it.
These geese will not leave you in the castle. Always wanted to follow me where to go, "he said.
Fragrant chrysolite up from complexioned skin. His thin lips rubies. The wind was jealous not able to parse the black hair. Servant servant was struck in the face of fascination. Drizzle pink parse weather in silence guesthouse.
Servant guided the princess entered the hut. The steps must be planted on the ground floor. Smooth calf emitting celestial light. Servant reassuring wave ripples in the liver.
The princess sits gracefully on a bamboo couch. He chewed on a smile. As if to guess the secret of lontar dull the past, the servant of an old crate stacking neatly engraved with lotus flowers.
"Ocean and typhoons true lovers who want menembangkan god hymns in the shells of clams," softly.
Servant servant was ashamed of the liver, suddenly bloomed in lovely eyes. Servant hastily lit lamp of coconut oil. Night in guesthouse has blinded distance.
Dim lantern light scratch two shadows on the wall of wood. Imagine that each trace the genealogy and history hesitated, which alienates us as far as the years of pain, along a distance of two hemispheres.
"The wind of what might have brought you here, my lady? Servant has exiled himself from all the memories even though parasmu still made an impression on the heart. What light guiding your steps, down the lonely trail untold, until he reached the shack servant? "
Sekilau moon eyes staring servants sharply. Penetrate the dim room, lit the soul. Beautiful ruby ​​lips opening words: "You still remember the palm leaves sebilah where tertatah poem, which you scratch from the depths of your soul?"
Servants felt warm blood from the heart, ashamed, flowing slowly to meet face slave. Been a long time, a dozen years ago. When we were still ripe age, so green. It seems that time has frozen the poem in a secret cave in the heart.
"Although it has a dull blade palm, pecan and black ink from soot is almost faded, but the poem never stop longing and exude a warm flow in my veins. Now it's time for me to pay off karma, "said the princess.
Servant stunned, the crowd guessing words like fireflies flew from the lips of an old servant rindui fracturing. Outside the hut, the geese mingle with the night, with mist. Complete silence his voice squeaked
"Do not hesitate. I came here for you. I'll recounts. And I believe you only scratch the story-my story on the blades of lontarmu. Because you're a poet's palace where my heart was never happy .... "
Gasped servant, servant spirit fluttered, like a soft breeze caressed the dawn of the epidermis. Been a long time servant of poetry could not scratch. Servant suddenly remembered, when servants leave the palace, secretly in the middle of the night quiet. For the promise of slaves in silence and wandering.
Coast to coast slave trace. Mountain after mountain climb towering servant. Jungle by jungle confidential servant explore. Valley after valley servant biological mystery. Until the slaves arrived in this eastern coast.
No one recognizes me. Unless quiet, a true friend companion. Is a man born for the sake of celebrating the silence? And when it was time again, people down the street was quiet-it also ....
A time to preach the message of the mountain wind. Very lovely daughter grieve not find servants in the palace. He was left with the grief lara alone across the ocean, settling in a foreign country, in order to find authenticity.
Servants to understand his grief. Servant already tempted silence. More chose exile, rather than accompany the princess passed her days in the castle. Servants feel free to be in the palace, dedicated to the king.
Servant just want to get back to nature and the subaltern. Learning to farm, singing jengkrik understand and green frogs. Mingling with the porter, the salt fields of farmers and fishermen. Hear the wind whistling in the tops of bamboo. Learning to parse the meaning of the word of the lizard on the wall of wood.
"Do not be sorry. Time so far to race. But the face and your heart is still as ever. Only a few strands of gray hair growing on the sidelines of black hair. Know, you still always pujanggaku. "
Servant never knew, what his face and the heart can not change. Only time eternal, and a bit of sense that seek eternal in the transitory.
Twilight is getting wild. Light lamp swaying. Obscures the shadows. Geese occasionally shrill. Mist surrounding the guesthouse. Two-tailed lizard on the wall of wood had been guessing the direction of our souls. Sawang something more dreamy.
"Know, pujanggaku. I'm not a real princess palace. I'm just a bastard. Although my father the king derivative, which was too late I know. But the way my mother never knew. Fetus since I've sipped bitter. My first mother's womb wrenching sobs. His heart has long been wounded. Not recognized, ashamed of his own disgrace. I was thrown away, such as rinsing the dirt on sex ..., "sighed the princess.
Servant choked, really shocked. The words taste thorn throat clogging. Pain is like running in the spinal artery. Only capable of silent servants. The princess could not stop complaining.
This sad story more convincing servant, how real human beings destined to experience solitude and loneliness. Servants felt a pair of lizard on the wall of wood had been laughing. And, squeaked goose fulfill our silent.
Tired with his own soul, the princess fell asleep at the bale-bale bamboo, without netting. In the palm leaf blades begin to scratch poems servant. In the dim light of a lamp, imagine the face of the princess, cursing himself ....