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Lomba dan Webinar February On Paper oleh Himpunan Mahasiswa Sastra Inggris

 

Lomba dan Webinar February On Paper

THE UNSEEN AND THE UNSPOKEN”

feeling and thoughts about women

 

Pada tanggal 16 februari 2021, Himpunan Mahasiswa Sastra Inggris (HIMASASING) Universitas Nasional, mengadakan ajang pencarian bakat melalui Kontes Menulis Puisi dan Webinar Kepenulisan Puisi, dalam memperingati “Women Days”. Kontes Menulis Puisi ini terbuka untuk mahasiswa/i JABODETABEK, banyak mahasiswa/i dari Universitas ternama juga ikut berpatisipasi dalam kegiatan ini. Kegiatan ini dapat dikatakan sukses, karena banyaknya partisipasi mahasiswa/i yang mendaftar sebagai peserta.

February On Paper adalah kegiatan yang diselenggarakan oleh HIMASASING yang memiliki tujuan untuk mengapresiasi bakat mahasiswa/i dalam menghasilkan karya sastra. Selain sebagai sarana apresiasi, kegiatan ini juga bertujuan untuk mengasah bakat mahasiswa/i dalam menghasilkan karya sastra. Kegiatan ini dilaksanakan melalui lomba karya sastra puisi tingkat Mahasiswa dan ditutup dengan kegiatan webinar “Kepenulisan Puisi” yang akan disampaikan oleh narasumber ahli dalam bidang terkait.

Kegiatan berjalan dengan lancar meskipun terdapat beberapa hambatan, banyaknya antusias peserta untuk mengikuti kegiatan ini membuat peserta dapat memahami materi dasar dari cara kepenulisan puisi.

Berikut adalah puisi dari ketiga pemenang :

Puisi Juara Pertama, oleh Aditya Tri Yoga.

For Those Who Lost, Great Courage, Great Beauty

Nusantara Aditya

 

I

 1789: French Revolution.

 

First stars since seventeen-eighty-nine.

The almighty,

monumental, legendary

revolutionary army

moves strategically yet twistedly.

The Declaration of the Rights of Man and of the Citizen.

Turn a man into a noble of his citizen.

On the eve of Revolution,

every man confront his destiny.

Galloping steps in the middle of the light.

Terrifying, thrilling, trembling.

From Bastille

to Versailles.

The highway is alive,

by fire in their hearts.

 

Thus spoke their prophet,

“Revolution! Revolution!

a new light for the nation!”

The roar of resistance enlightened the nation.

Annex!

Attack!

Assault!

Ambush!

Howl!

“Liberté, Égalité, Fraternité!”

Chaos!

Strike!

Blaze!

Shatter!

Conquer!

The highway is alive,

by fire in their hearts.

Revolution: an epic poetry.

 

1971: Behind the French Revolution, the Unseen and the Unspoken truth.

Two years after the French Revolution.

The Martyr released her letter.

The Declaration of the Rights of Woman and of the Female Citizen.

“Woman is born free and lives equal to man in her rights.”

Olympe de Gouges

liberate woman from many cages.

Olympe de Gouges was born to be free,

her destiny is to resist tyranny.

There’s a ton of revolutionary idea in her head

more than in the heart of the French Revolution.

“Woman, wake up, stand for your rights!”

She starts to begin her battle,

until her last breathe.

On the eve of Revolution,

every woman confront her tragedy.

Walking gracefully amidst the lightning.

Terrorized, threatened, tortured.

Thousand years of prison

can’t blind her vision.

“Woman arise! Woman arise!”

and she continued to fight,

until her last sigh.

I die, my son,

my dear son;

I die innocent.

 

Avenge my death!

Children of homeland,

YOU SHALL

AVENGE MY DEATH!

One blade slashed her neck,

Guillotine take her life, but not her voice.

From the Kingdom of French,

she fly away,

to the Kingdom of Heaven,

miles away, miles away.

Last letter, “And if one day French women are recalled by posterity,

maybe my memory will be held dear.”

Revolution: a tragic story.

au revoir,

the martyr.

II

 

The Wounded Deer.

The wandered deer in tear.

 

She was born

in the age of revolution.

She

has her own

way but she’s

never won.

Frida Kahlo,

invited the world to her inferno.

Suffered

severe

chronic

crack.

Patience and passion

in battle with paralysis syndrome.

Dives into surrealis subconscious

delivers her dreams.

Frida pours her pain and suffering

into her paintings.

She turns a pity

into beauty.

Tragic becomes a magic.

Faith becomes a myth.

Wrath becomes awards.

Word becomes a road.

Cathartic.

The artistic anesthetic.

Glory soul.

Glass body.

Heart of gold.

Hands of witch.

1927 Joined the Communist Party.

Poet in the protest.

Roar of the revolutionary Red Army.

In the wheelchair, lies a patriot,

in the middle of riot.

First stargazed. Star-cross’d lovers met.

Eye to an eye.

Soul to soul.

and the body

… for whom?

Frida fall to a hole

with her beloved Diego.

Unity

in diversity.

Diego filled her flowering body in the daylight.

Diego purify her mirror at the star-studded night.

Flowers scattered at twilight.

Mirrors broken. Dim light.

Divided

in unity.

Unfaithful. Unsatisfied.

Lover splits Frida,

Two Faces of Frida.

The heartbroken Frida.

The broken Frida.

Poor Frida,

in battlefield again.

Fountain of pain.

Amputation.

Cut her leg off,

cut her pride off.

Dear Diego, I’m amputating you.”

 

Bloody.

Fragmented body.

Death comes slowly.

 

The brightest scar on the star

is a woman.

The toughest glass, at last,

is a woman.

Frida lives forever

in a sunflower.

The end of the story.

The end of the history

of

The Wounded Deer.

The wounded, dear,

Frida Kahlo.

Rest in your paradiso.

III

 

Merapi raging in 1992,

Merapi raging in 1994,

May, 1993.

 

She’s dead yesterday,

she’s alive until this day.

 

She passed on.

She can’t remember the reason.

Walking down the street

and saw something great.

Newspaper:

“The tyranny spreads it’s vicious like a black death,

they took our rights!

Now, we only have one path:

Stands for our rights! -Marsinah 24 years old.”

“Great courage, great beauty,

Marsinah 24 years old, leads mass movements.”

“Marsinah: resistance & remembrance.”

“Marsinah, 3 days gone.”

 

Travelled back to

May 3rd, 1993.

Mass movements.

Mass strikes.

Workers unites,

fight for the better lives.

 

The fierce voice from the speaker,

“The tyranny spreads it’s vicious like a black death,

they took our rights!

Now, we only have one path:

Stands for our rights!”

Group of workers,

“What a brave young girl Marsinah is,

her words is thrilling!”

 

Marsinah leads mass movements,

she stands still in the frontline,

gently yet toughly,

bravely, fiery.

One shall see those blazing eyes.

The masses were getting stonger,

The line were getting greater.

All the workers scream,

“Justice! Justice! Justice!”

and the fight goes on.

Sang Saka fly on.

May 8th, 1993.

Roses scent,

flower, gunpowder.

Wound under

her bones.

Marsinah! Marsinah!

Lost and lose.

Suffer.

Suffocate.

She was torn apart by wild dogs,

they raped her body.

She was torn apart by wild dogs,

they ripped her soul.

Helpless.

Hopeless.

One bullet tear a hole in her body.

Marsinah withered away,

fade away,

in the season of her bloom.

Trapped in a gloomy doom.

My struggle is over,

now it’s your time to take over.

Pulse stops ticking.

Her soul flying.

From Nusantara,

to Nirvana.

Half staff

Sang Saka.

and the Merapi mountain mourn in 1993.

17-18 Februari 2021

Puisi Juara Kedua, oleh Reskia Enno Kartika.

The Unseen and The Unspoken

He said:

Women are glass.

Girls are candies that have been unwrapped.

Women are the crowns that the king will wear.

Women are salted fish just like that.

Women are noble creatures.

He said, he said, he said.

Why are women equated with animals to goods.

It seems to be glorifying, but condescending.

In fact, women are only creatures with full of love.

He said, he said, he said.

I said, we are human.

Reskia Enno Kartika

Puisi Juara Ketiga, oleh Zakia Rachmah.

24th NIGHT

Zakia Rachmah

 

You as a King

And She as a Queen

That night came then the story begun

But it jumped straight to the climax raising

That was a great night

For a great fight

At the middle of night

That noises sound

Woke me up and down

Plot twisted happened to us

Causes silent hill

Into this palace

We have our own ill

For the one excuse

Today is Sunday

But now even for next days

It’s not sunny

Since the Queen has gone

In hurt feeling and brittle bone

Don’t you regret it, King?

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