Folk-historian

He who knows earth’s matters, the secret ones

He who knows true tales

He who knows beautiful legends

He who knows sharp and powerful words

Your mind is as sharp as an arrow

Your eyes are as bright as embers

Your ears wave like flags

Your lips move gently like a parrot’s beak

When have you spoken in vain?

Your heart is full of modesty

You prefer keeping secrets

You prevent people from spreading what reveal

So, who shall continue your amazing talent?

Jogjakarta, 7 February 2002

* This poem is dedicated to my late beloved grandfather (my mother’s father), Simon Petrus Tunliu (±1896-1996), a common farmer and folk-historian (genealogist), originating from the village of Sunu, South Amanatun, South Central Timor, East Nusa Tenggara Province, Indonesia.

The Dawanese/Uab Meto version:

Atekanab

nâko Yohanes Manhitu

Ahin lais pah ma nifu, lais leü;

Ahin etus ma tonas amaneot;

Ahin nuun ma hanaf amasat;

Ahin hanfuaf aaikat-amâtanes.

Ho tenbe naäik onlê anesfut;

Ho matmu npin onlê ai flâ;

Ho luekmu nhaek onlê penpene;

Ho lulmu nmaleit onlê kol-kitâ ini.

Lekë et ho muüab kalan-kalan?

Ho muheun mok nek-baun.

Ho mmalinan mis lasi \'tolô.

Ho mkaû tuaf he kaisâ nabenon ho lasi.

Neu, sekau et mes natutan hine amaneot?

Jogjakarta, 7 Funnuâ 2003