I run to the forest and then I sing

I run to the beach and shout out loud

it is so quiet

I hate being quiet and alone

I want to be noisy

I want to be at a market

I'm bored with being tired

I want to get rid if you darkness

I feel covered with soot if I'm alone

just break the glass to make a noise

let them howl,

until there is a tumult

Oh... I can see an angel

weaving a striped spider's web

on the wall of a white palace

why not just swing the bell until it winces

or I should run to the forest

urn to the beach

Rangga ,
poet of being a loner