With my childness
I lift my eyes
Is sitting quietly
With a blade in my hand
I will scratch the present
Perhaps, this way
will reveal itself.
Ho ha’u-nia kiik
Ha’u foti matan
hateke ba oin
Ho lamina iha liman
Ha’u sei koir loron ohin
Karik ho nune’e
Mak loron aban
sei hatudu oin.
I like Argentina.’
‘You like Brazil?‘
‘He likes France.’
‘She likes Germany.’
‘We like Italy…’
‘You like Mexico?’
‘They like Portugal.’
‘Each of us with our preferences, right?’
Every night, here we gather
In front of a TV screen belongs to a decent neighbour.
Watching the soccer match starts
scanning who the players are
judging how well they perform
betting which team will won at last
Yelling when one shoots the goal
Cursing when one cannot make it
Counting the time slot, analyzing the penalty, describing the match. Dramatically.
‘It is fun. It is intense. Stimulating. Dissappointing’. Everybody comment.
For almost a month will we bound to this gathering
As this is the month of World Cup
With a hot Timor coffee served in the plastic cup
By the mumbling wife of the TV owner.
One day, everything will reveal itself
The beauty, the ugliness
Both at the same time
Then you will come by
Admiring both of them.
Karimbala (Maliana), 15/6/2018
Yesterday… I saw you
On an afternoon before the night came
among the crowd
at the edge of the road
You were sitting alone
I saw a rush in your face
Your eyes looking at something
Perhaps you were waiting for something
Yesterday… I passed in front of you
Surprised and excited to see you again
Then the mouth of mine
called your name right away
and waited for your eyes to find me…
However… nor did your eyes find me at all
Your ears heard none of my call either
You kept standing there
Turning your back
Looking at something else
Thus, I had to get away too
and trying to move on from the moment
Yesterday was just a yesterday
It could not reverse to the present day
Yesterday was just a yesterday
But now I do believe
That tomorrow will be better…
What do you see during the concert of pop music at heart of the city?
Is it the setting of the stage where the blinking lights are all around?
Is it the unstoppable speech of the host?
The native and foreign singers who sing with their beautiful voices?
The dancers who shake themselves in an amazing style?
Or, the crowds who surface like ants?
As for me. I am not only looking at these things.
Eyes of mine supposed to only look straightforward, yet they draw me to see a five-year-old boy holding a bunch of five balloons and selling them around.
Then, a father holding her little daughter buys a pink balloon from the five-year-old boy who sold the balloon. The father gives the balloon to her daughter. The little girl laughs out excitedly.
After that, a woman came along and took the little girl from her father. She kissed her daughter with laughter.
The three of them stand right in front of me holding the pink balloon they just bought and watching the concert of pop music at the heart of the city.
Now, I am the one who cannot see that concert of pop music at the heart of the city.
Largo Lecidere, Dili, Timor-leste, August 29, 2017
When you are here, it is noisy.
When you are not here, it is tranquil and mute.
When you are not here, there is no trouble.
When you are here, there will be trouble.
Yet from the trouble you brought with you, it had made us find the solution together.
You, noisiness, trouble and solution, we never let go of each other.
It is no use for you to continue to tell everyone a fiery story about the ugliness and bad deeds of someone in order to impress your listeners. Probably it does sound amazing telling those stories. However, one day, neither you shall be infallible of mistakes.
O, my friend, the human being is indeed not perfect at all.
VZ, Dili, 2016
My young brother had his birthday today
There was no birthday cake, no candles to blow
Only some words of hope and prayers
‘Happy birthday my young brother.
May the day bring you more joy and happiness
May you grow as great man for your world
May your future be bright as the sunshine
To My little bro Dino
VZ, 16 April 2017
On the night of the Holy Thursday, silent.
The hymns resonated.
Echoing from the cathedral of Baucau city
Sung by people who believe.
I sat alone, silent.
Listening, reading and asking.
After finished the supper with his disciples, what did Jesus do after that?
Whether He will also sit alone in silence like myself and listening to the hymn?