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Um escritor, um poeta, um aventureiro,

Monday 31 October 2011

Puizia Hosi Ildefonso Konaba Massakre Santa Cruz, 12 de Novembro de 1991

Insiden Santa Krus 12 November 1991
By: Ildefonso Pereira Kaboran

12 November 1991, 20 tahun silam
Letusan senjata menggema di seantero bumi Lorosa’e
Peluru menggelegar, menembus… darah pun mengalir…
Jeritan manusia berlumuran darah…Santa Krus jadi saksi

Luka… darah dan mayat berserakan
Truk logistik TNI bergegas angkut
Hilangkan jejak sembunyikan bekas
Ketatkan keamanan runtuhkan perjuangan

Semangat pemuda dengan gigih berani
Terus berkobar tak pernah kendor
Luka dan darah seolah memberikan harapan
Hidup atau mati tanah airku Timor-Leste

12 November 1991… 20 tahun silam
Perjuangan kian melebar
Maju dan maju terus pantang menyerah
Demi kau Timor-Leste tercintaku


Friday 28 October 2011

Dadolin Hosi Rogerio Loiluar Konaba Massakre Santa Cruz, 12 de Novembro de 1991


SANTA CRUZ 91
By: Roserio Loiluar


Se kaan morin ár istória
Mai!
Mai bá!...
Iha Santa Cruz
Bainhira loron 12 fulan-Novembru


Taka hela matan, hodi rona!
Rona bá!
Lian sira, be nunka mate
Iha leet ruin sira, iha rate-ulun laran


Husu bá!
Ba baki sira, be monok
Ba foho, saseluk matan no tilun

Husu bá!
Kona-ba mate-isin lakon
Kona-ba tiroteiu nadodon
Kona-ba asaun kobarde


Dada-iis bá, iha ó-nia imajinasaun
Horon sira-nia espíritu, be latan namkari
Iha lidun sira be izoladu
Iha rai Loro-sa’e
Lembra!
Lembra hikas bá!


Kuru sira-nia ahi espíritu
Iha leet mundu nia hakraku be loko-an no estrondu
Bainhira anin lotuk istória
Hakmahan
Taka metin ema-nia moris


Colégio São José, 16 de Março 2006

Wednesday 26 October 2011

Dadolin Hosi Ildefonso no Rio Borges Konaba Massakre Santa Cruz, 12 de Novembro 1991 (Part Two)

Trajédia Santa Krús (12 Novembro 1991)
By: Ildefonso Pereira Kaboran

Tarutu nabotun fanun rai Timor
Hakilar haklalak belar mundu tomak
Ran suli turu tun habokon rai leten
Halerik no tanis harohan nafatin

Ran suli turu tun fakar rai leten
Lotun kari lemo rai halo rai metan
Espítiru timoroan manas ba beibeik
Domin ukun rasik-an buras liután

Trajédia Santa Krús loke ó-nia matan
Hakilar haklalak loke mundu tilun
Loke ó matan hodi haree ami hakilar
Loke imi tilun hodi rona ami halerik

Oan timor nia hakarak ukun rasik-an
Bele terus to’o mate luta nafatin
Hakilar haklalak tuba rai metin
Kaer liman hamutuk ukun rasik-an

Ukun-an liu ona povu sei terus
Ukun-an liu ona povu sei halerik
Halerik no terus buka tau matan
Tau matan mai ami povu terus na’in




TANSÁ Ó LA FILA?
By: Rio Borges

Loro matan sa’e ona
Mehi nakukun kalan nian tatoli ahi lakan
Housi fuan be hakilar
“Mate ka moris ukun rasik-an”

Uluk o nudar bua saren ida, boot sira ku’u
Loke tu’u ai meik
Mate hanesan balada fuik
Mate iha santa cruz maibe cruz laek
Ó isin ass wain so’e lemorai

Tansá ó la fila?
Manu kokorek ó haktuir ó mehi
Loro matan sa’e, anin fuik mai kasu nahas
Kilat musan borus, latan ba rai lian laek los ona

Loro matan monu
Ó inan tanis nalerik neon nakukun
Ó lian lakon bikan doku
Ó odamatan mos la dere

Ó ran suli hanesan we inan
Suli tuir kadalak tun to’o tasi
Ami titu ha’e ba dersan nobun
Ami seti tinan ba tinan

Ema wain lakon liman, lakon ain
Sé mak ba hatutan?
Iha sira sei marka Timor nia terus
Se lerek tau matan?
Ran sei rekere
Fitar sei marka
Istória sei hatudu
Matan delek sei sente

Ass-wain be laiha naran
Housi imi ran naksulin we matan moris
Ass-wain be iha naran
Tansá ó la hatenu?

Keta taka imi fuan
Ba naroman loro matan foin sa’e
Hanehan kosar no ran ho maskra mundo nian
Anin fuik, tasi siak sei kasu mohu

Ass-wain Santa Cruz
Ran ass-wain, rai nain, lulik Timor sei rekere
Matebian Santa Cruz, mate bian rate laek sei hakilar
“Ami mate atu naroman mosu”

Mate restu 12 de Novembro
Imi fuan sona borus, iis sei la mohu hakur we boot
Matan sei la dukur ba ahi kdesan
Hakilar nafatin hasoru veneno mundo nian.

Monday 24 October 2011

Puisiku dan Puisinya Max Lane Tentang Kejadian Santa Cruz, 12 NoVember 1991 (part one)


Ran
By: Celso Oliveira

Ran,
Ran ne’e suli hosi ema barak nia le’et.
Ran ne’e suli iha semiteriu nia laran.
Maibe, ran ne’e mai hosi ema barak nia lia fuan «UKUN RASIK-AN».

Hau loke fila fali historia funu nian.
Página ida-idak hau loke hodi hare’e historia funu nian.
Maibe, to’o iha página 12 de Novembro 1991, iha semiteriu Santa Cruz,
Hau para tiha hodi halo refleksaun.

Historia hanesan ne’e sei la repete tan.
Ema bele hakerek historia foun barak,
Ema bele halo knananuk foun barak,
Maibe, historia hanesan 12 de Novembro 1991 sei la repete tan.

Ran,
Ran ne’e suli hosi ema barak nia isin.
Iha dadersan ida nebe nakonu ho lia fuan «UKUN RASIK-AN».
Iha dadersan ida nebe katuas no ferik sira sei toba.
Klosan, feto-ran no labaraik sira hakilar «UKUN RASIK-AN».

Ran,
Ran ne’e maka halo ohin loron hau lao livre.
Ran ne’e maka halo ohin loron hau bele hakerek.
Hakerek historia funu nian.
Hakerek 12 de Novembro 1991.

Ran,
Ran ne’e labele mosu tan.
Tamba ran ne’e halo ema barak tauk.
Ran ne’e halo ema barak moris iha trauma nia laran.

Maibe,
Ran ne’e maka halo ohin loron ema barak bele hamnasa,
Bele pasiar, bele lao tun-sae, bele pinta, bele konta historia,
Bele dansa, bele tu’ur hamutuk hemu serveja oan 1, seluk-seluk tan.

Hau pinta kuadru oan ida konaba ran nebe suli iha 12 de Novembro 1991.
Ran ne’e maka suli deit ona iha kuadru nia laran.
Labele suli sai hosi kuadru nia laran.
Tamba iha kuadru nia laran, iha kamizola mutin barak.

Entre ran no kamizola mutin iha kuadru nia laran,
Hau hili maka kamizola mutin.
Tamba mutin signifika dame (peace, paz, damai).

Iha kuadru nia laran, hau mós pinta ema kaer kilat.
Maibe, dala 1 tan hau dehan entre kilat, ran no kamizola mutin,
Hau hili maka kamizola mutin.
Tamba mutin signifka dame (peace, paz, damai).


Sajak Kuburan Santa Cruz
by: Max Lane

Debu batu kerikil jalan menggores-gores tubuh
Darah mencat asfal jalan, keluar dari lobang dibuka peluru
Wajah perih, mata nangis, otak marah, jiwa merana
Jiwa menyatakan merdeka, asing buat mental tentara.

Kuburan terima korban hidup hari itu di Santa Cruz yang tenang
Kaos hanya pengantar keberanian bertekad: “Kita akan menang!”
Wajah bicara sakit mendalam, tubuh dan jiwa, keliling semua negeri,
Ratusan nyawa dan keberanian tak terhingga membeli waktu di TV.

Gerilyawan kencing sendirian di hutan dipeluk sunyi
Bisikan kamerad samar-samar satu-satunya bunyi
Estafeta tiba berkabar bunyi lain: kaki di asfal jalan internasional semakin aksi
Darah Santa Cruz tidak sia-sia, keberanian wajah bertekad, buat kemenangan menjadi saksi.

Friday 21 October 2011

Ai Funan Rosa

Hau hakfodak iha dadersan nakukun, biar karik hau nia matan sei dukur hela tamba oda kalan hau toba tarde. La hanesan bai-bain kuandu hau hader hau ba buka kedas kafe manas hodi hemu. Ohin dader hau hader, hau ba buka uluk ai funan rosa nebe moris buras iha hau nia jardim. Hau ku tiha ai funan rosa sanulu hodi ba tau hela iha balde ida nebe nakonu ho be. Hau fakar be ba ai funan rosa nia leten.

Iha razaun rua mak halo hau hader dadersan nakukun hodi ku ai funan rosa:

Primeiru tamba fulan Outubro, konsidera fulan Nossa Senhora nian. Iha uma kain hotu-hotu, kuandu to’o ona fulan Maio no Outubro, sira prepara ai funan rosa hodi hasa’e ba Inan Maria.

Segundu, tamba hau nia maluk diak nia tinan.

Hau prepara daudaun ai funan rosa ne’e kuandu derepenti alarme iha hau nia telemovel lian hodi fo’o hanoin mai hau katak ohin hau nia maluk diak halo tinan. Iha hau nia laran, hau dehan nune: "se karik hau osan iha, entaun hau sei bolu hau nia maluk ne’e ba han iha restauranti diak no romantiku iha tasi ibun. Maibe, tamba hau ema kiak, entaun hau fo'o deit ai-funan ne'e ba hau nia maluk diak. Ida ne'e presenti diak no folin bo'ot liu".

Ai funan rosa iha signifikadu oi-oin. Primeiru, domin. Segundu, dame. Terseiru, amizade. Hat, moris.

PARABENS BA IMI HOTU NEBE HALO TINAN IHA FULAN OUTUBRO TINAN 2011.


Celso Oliveira

Wednesday 19 October 2011

Trauma Pos Funu

Iha historia "funu", normalmente funu afeta maka'as ema nia formasaun humana. Por exemplo: sentimentu tauk, kontinua ho hahalok nebe violentu, hakfodak, insonia, etc...

Iha blog:
http://marcasdevida.wordpress.com/, ou http://familydoctor.org/online/famdocen/home/common/mentalhealth/anxiety/624.html ita bele le informasaun balun konaba stress pos-traumatiku tamba funu.

Timor Leste nebe foin sai hosi funu presija politika ida nebe diak hodi fo'o apoio maka'as ba ema sira nebe moris iha trauma, liu-liu trauma tamba funu. OJE 2012 tenki iha orsamentu hodi kria departamentu ida hodi fo'o apoio ba stress pos-trauma.

Media iha Timor Leste bele sai hanesan meius ida hodi ajuda hasai ema hosi traumatismu tamba funu. Media labele presiona ou viola ema nia direitu, liu-liu ema nebe moris kleur iha funu nia laran.

Celso Oliveira




Saturday 8 October 2011

GEJOLAK


Lebih baik melihat diri kita sendiri sebagai

Seorang yang tidak pernah memberi sumbangan


Apapun untuk kemerdekaan Timor Leste.

Daripada kita lupa diri dengan kata Pahlawan.

Pahlawan adalah mereka yang memberi


Jiwa dan raga untuk Timor Leste, tetapi tidak


Meminta kembali penderitaan, kesengsaraan dan

 kematiannya.

Monday 3 October 2011

Os poemas Que Falam Em Meu Nome

My Country Now Free From War


Now I'm happy because my country is free from war.
Happy at last because there's no more war in East Timor.
The colour white, the colour green,
They mean my country is living in peace and hope.


One guitar,
One chair,
One music,
One bike,
Sunshine,
Breeze.
My whole being enjoying together.
Some food,
Some drink,
Some party dishes,
Some dancing together with friends,
And planning for the future.


People don't cry any more because of war,
People no longer like war,
They've said goodbye to war
And welcome to peace and reconciliation.
People wake up in the morning and go to work,
Coming home from work they can talk about the future.
And I hope if all the peoples in the world read this poem,
They will say "we're happy there's no more war in East Timor".




Politician! Please don't make any more war in East Timor,
Nor people from other countries, please don't make war.
People from Indonesia and Australia,
Please work together with East Timor,
To make a batter future for East Timor.


Folk from around the world please enjoy this poem with me.

Once in My Bedroom


My life is a star. It is a road that leads to my final destination.
My life is a noise that comes from chatters and screams of my children before they go to bed.
My life is a serious search for the letters that construct the sentences of my literary work.
My life - no more no less - will tell you all. One day, we will sing together – PEACE, FREEDOM, JUSTICE and PROGRESS in EAST TIMOR.

I am now entering a dark room. Outside it is still daytime. I am going to reflect on my whole being. I am going to hear all the noises of cars that pass by under my bedroom windows. I will listen to all conversations of passer-bys and the laughs of children outside my room. And I'm alone. My life is a PROGRESS.

I looked in the mirror. There I found a body and a soul Timorese. There I saw it in their eyes, but said nothing. My land is beautiful and rich, but I'm far from it.

I stop to think, look at the phrases, but feel nothing. Everything is empty. Without me, you won’t read these sentences. I am one of you who love PEACE and PROGRESS in EAST TIMOR.

I am still in my dark room, although outside it is still daytime. The alarms sounded, although there was no danger in my door, in my house, in my neighborhood and within my heart.

But the silence that I am feeling – it seems that there were already no more signs of life. This means that it is night. And yet I still write about my gift, my man. And, I'm one of you, who love the FREEDOM.

The noises, the chatters and the songs of children are beautiful. Children have every right to be children. They begin to say the alphabet, Aa Bb Cc Dd Ee ... to Zz.

Thanks to you, always next to me and supporting me in my literary journey.

SOUL POET TIMORESE

I just read two messages –

The first from a friend of many years,
Older than me.
The other from a friend younger than me –
All this, thanks to modern technology
That could instantly deliver these two written messages to me.
I searched for their meaning.

In my adventure as poet and traveler,
I often lost my control to be a true TIMORESE!
I established, tied, or delivered myself with my whole being – body and mind.

The message: how could we represent the true SOUL TIMORESE?
It was a forceful and heavy message - one that was too hard to hear.
But I confess, I liked hearing it.

Perhaps a smell of coffee from Timor would quench my longing.
Perhaps a korematan melody would quench my longing…
Perhaps a typical Timorese dish like batardan, katupa, and sasate would quench my longing…

I know there are many old Timorese who want all their children
Preserve the spirit of a Timorese.
I know, among strangers, there are many Timorese children who continue their search for their Timorese root.
I know there are many mothers who pray for the day when we praise the language of TIMOR…

For me, everything’s fine…


Ser timorense,
Ser poeta

Um papagaio caiu em cima do tecto da minha casa.
Era de manhã, no princípio do mês de Agosto.
Na Inglaterra, país onde eu vivo e admiro.
Chuva??? Sim.
No verão de 2008.

Não sei se aconteceu, apenas, na minha imaginação...
O que é certo, é que a olhar para o papagaio, surgiu-me, então, outra ideia.
Foi assim:
“Quando eu comecei a aprender a língua portuguesa, nunca pensei
Que um dia iria escrever os meus poemas em Português”.

Hoje em dia, tenho orgulho em ser Timorense,em ser um poeta viajante.
Tenho que confessar a minha paixão pelo mundo literário
E revelar, também, a minha sensibilidade pelo mundo que me rodeia.

É bom aprender a língua portuguesa.
É bom saber exprimir as nossas ideias na língua de Camões, Saramago, Lídia Jorge, Manuel Alegre e outros poetas e escritores portugueses.

O vento começou a soprar e levou com ele algumas das minhas ideias,
Enquanto eu permaneço no meu lugar, a olhar para fora.
Entrego todo o meu ser: o meu corpo e a minha mente, a quem queira ouvir- me
E juntar-se comigo, na busca do papagaio pendurado no tecto da minha casa.

O papagaio bonito, lindo de cor branca desapareceu da minha mente.
Mas a minha memória sobre o meu primeiro contacto com a língua portuguesa continua a permanecer.

Obrigado por ti
Obrigado por Timor


"A Vida é uma arte"


A arte não é política.
Mas a política é uma arte.
Porque a arte nasce por causa da política.
A política faz a arte,
A vida é uma arte,
Mas os políticos exploram a arte.

Os políticos morrem, é uma arte.
A arte morre é um cadastro.
As crianças nascem, é uma arte.
Os pais e as crianças morrem é um cadastro.

Os políticos criam a arte,
Os políticos têm a vida.
Mas arte não os ama.
A vida não lhes pertence.
Porque a vida é uma arte
E os políticos exploram a arte.

By: Celso Oliveira, Poeta Timor Oan