In the river of believe
the differences that we had yesterday
drifted together
in the whirling circle pool
as warm as mother’s love
as loud as the scream of children catching a falling kite
in the old village that slowly disappear
We then hold each other hand
we regret
of the dust we created
of our yearning that turn into sorrow
that covering the light who bounces in our faces
How ancient and simple actually the matter is
We recite it in the chant
we read it in the lontar leaves
we ask to the cleric
but we always late
to understand the stream of love in that river of believe
Only when we heard the sound of chariot ready to pick us up
we start holding in each other hand
But the rain start to falls
the frangipani branches soaked
The sound of srigunting bird very sad in the distance
One by one we were taken into
and there will be no chance to look back again
…
In the bank of the river of believe
I see our move reflects in the mirage
