Carnival

When carnival overrides silence

Soon, after the carnival,....

In the morning,

We  are like a couple of  pink flamingo in Yucatan Peninsula

Perching beneath the dewy trees

Singing for the flock of butterflies

Flying to the east to greet sun shine

At night,

We are like a set of Chinese porcelain

So delicate but powerful inside

Sleeping only upon the gentlest cradle

Dreaming underneath the mantra of tenderness

Two years after the carnival,

We are still like the pink flamingo,

and the finest Chinese porcelain

Bandung, December 8, 2010

By Martina Herawatiningsih