Anthology features poems of ASEAN writers

ASEANO: An Anthology of Poems from Southeast Asia Published by The ASEAN Committee on Culture and Information, Manila, 1995 282 pages

JAKARTA (JP): What does the word "Aseano" mean? If you think that it has something to do with the Association of Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN), you are in the right track.

Aseano is an anthology of poems from ASEAN countries, published by ASEAN. An idea that came from the first and second ASEAN Writer's Conference/Workshops held in 1992 and 1993, the book showcases works by conference delegates.

Although all the writers are Southeast Asians, they do not limit themselves to exclusively Southeast Asian topics. The topics have universal tones such as women's issues, romantic patriotism and the Bosnian war.

A Bosnian war poem titled Schindler's List II is a striking poem by Lim Kim Hui of Malaysia. He finds a parallel between World War II and the Bosnian war -- ethnic cleansing.

He starts by setting the scene: "When the curtain of the soul is raised/ On the screen the word Serbia/ Sprinkles of blood/ Genocide is created by man/ Humanity is an illusion/ Death a hallucination."

As vividly as he describes the tragedy, he conveys the message that the whole drama is more than real: "The cinematographic theory of Serbia is memorized/ The auteur theory is presented without screen-acting."

He is Chinese by descent, but more fluent in Malay due to his kampong upbringing. His poems are written in Malay, including Schindler's List II.

Even if you do not read Malay, you have no reason to worry. All the works are translated into English. Some poets have their works in their native language and in English. Some translators are the poets themselves. The translations, mostly from Malay and Indonesian, usually capture the meaning and the gist of the poems, especially when done by the poet.

Verbatim

But when the poets translate their own work, they usually do it verbatim. The Malay and Indonesian poets have a forceful tone, the impact of which is sometimes lost in English.

Take for example the translated work of Brunei's Brahim A. H. T. His poem, Croaking Frog, is translated by Emelita Cruz as follows.

"...Outside pours the heavy rain/ and the frog wants his life changed/ He kicks the coconut shell/ and jumps away..."

While the verbatim translation would be something like this: "...Outside it is still madly raining/ and the frog makes a revolution on his life/ His feet kick/ the coconut shell is only quiet, let it go..."

Quite a difference, isn't it?

Another example of a Southeast Asian poet's writing about an international topic is Snake Story by the Philippines' Ralph Selmino Galan. Snake Story is a poem about the 1993 death of American teen idol River Phoenix outside Viper Room bar in Los Angeles.

His death becomes a tragedy of ignorance. "You who believe yourself immortal/ whose very name is eponymous/ to something eternal/ A River that/ flows forever (But to where.../ the Valley of Death?/ the Sea of Life?).

Others write about issues in their own backyard. Thai poets, for example, write about a changing society (Theerasart Phaireephinas' In The World of Mixed Cultures and Linchong Chorrojprasert's The Abandoned Fields) and social gaps (Phaireephinas' The Spider... The Rich... The Poor).

Phaireephinas also writes about a problem that has long haunted Thailand -- prostitution. Life in Darkness, however, is a sympathetic view. As a mother who has to feed her child, she has no other choice but to sell herself. "Deep in her heart she cries/ "Hush, hush, my dear baby/ Your hunger will be satisfied/ Mother is making money."

A policeman comes to arrest her and the woman pleads for his generosity. Although he is moved, he has to arrest her. "Prostitutes are here and there/ Prostitutes are everywhere/ Our land becomes infamous/ As the Land of the Prostitutes."

The sense of love for one's country is mutual, but each person has his/her own way to convey it. Brunei's Brahim, for example, gives a romantic expression of his love in Motherland. "Here, the price of the motherland/ cannot be determined/ Maybe there can be a bargain/ But this remains certain and clear/ I will always love her."

Chopsticks

Multicultural Singaporeans often find themselves caught in a relation to the ancestor's land. Lau Wai Mun's Mr. Stalin and Grandma depicts not only a generation gap but also a cultural gap. "I drank my Chinese tea, then/ pinched the steamed sea-bass with crossed/ chopsticks. Father, how did the Curtain fall?"

The crossed chopsticks represent the ignorance of the main character, in Chinese culture, who does not know how to use chopsticks.

The poets from the Philippines, on the other hand, guard their pride more vigorously. In Comfort Woman, Herminio S. Beltran Jr. demands more than apologies from the Japanese. "Now, Lola Rosa, comfort woman deprived of comfort/ As we too emerge from the cloud veiling the light/ We spread out the moon in the sky of our courage/Collect that is due you beyond all apologies/ Wipe out the stains splattered on our race"

Aseano is not merely a boy's club. Women poets have their voices here. Indonesia's Abidah El Khalieqy wrote Crossroads and I Am Present.

In Crossroads she tells about the struggle of women throughout history: "At the crossroad I met an ocean of women/ dejectedly carrying arduous loads/ along the shadows behind the curtains of history."

Wars and the struggles women face are only a couple of the topics featured in Aseano. ASEAN countries still have much to explore, including this question posed by Eka Budianta in his poem, An October Agenda.

"When those islands sank/ when the drought ran too long/ people lost their houses, and fire burned cities to ashes/ what were your poets doing?"

-- Yenni Kwok