Summary: A girl who leaves her hometown and chases her goals.
It was a small rural town, surrounded by dry fields,
Where the old houses were like a circle.
It was painted by sallow green rice fields,
Nothing bright but the blue sky that was mortal.
There was a beautiful girl, starring at the blue sky,
Wondering different life in a different world,
Promised herself in front of the flying butterfly,
I wondered how things look like in her world.
When some girls played, she was reading,
When any girls knitted, she was speaking,
When other girls cooked, she was exploring,
When I briefly saw her, she was learning.
She made a brutal fight in her own mind,
The whispers of chasing freedom or rotting in the nowhere place.
The questions without answers that can make her so blind,
Of who she was really were in the surface of the race.
If a girl could reach her goals, how bad it could be?
If a girl rose up being equal, how terrible it would be?
If a girl was respected like a man, how vile it could be?
If a girl educated herself, how wrong it would be?
She hated when people mocked her,
She cursed when people saw her nothing,
She irritated when people did not listen to her,
I cried when people dumping and roughing.
She left the place of emptiness, chasing her imaginative dreams,
Trying to change them into the real ones,
With knowledge and education as the beams,
With sweat and blood as the guns.
The dry fields now are merely big and tall buildings,
Nothing is forever, the sallow green color turns to red,
The houses form in tidy and crowded lines,
I envy her to go ahead.
Many years were passed away, trials she has faced,
Become something that makes life better,
Everything is for a proper life, faith that is always believed.
Happiness in freedom could be the nice offer.
The streets are crowded by walking people,
Men and women wear the same neat suit,
No more ignorance, people are just equal,
Men and women are in battle of pursuit.
She is sitting on her red chair, in one of the tallest building,
Gazing upon the sky and proudly rising her head,
Sipping her tea with red lipstick left tainting,
I want to be her kind without any dread.
She is an independent girl, in an independent country,
Working all days, reflecting world war knights,
Dedicates her half life to the greatest supremacy,
She says that thousand times in thousand nights.
She is looking in the mirror, reflecting that strong faith,
Smiling at her reflection of someone she loves,
This is where I belong to release my wraith,
The past would be so suffering and could be so unloved.
I visit the green town back then, medium buildings start to appear,
See dirty children are playing dolls; some of them are daydreaming,
They are staring at me like a creature from other planet with fear,
With balloon black dress is clinging to me, blooming.
I scream to the young people in front of me, look up,
I can make the green become the red, their eyes are burning,
I can make the dry become the wet, their heads are rising up
I can see the whole world, their faiths begin to crawl.
Word count: (575)
Anna Sexton’s “Her Kind” poem
Alicia Key’s “De Novo Adagio” instrument
Monique Ariica that helped me editing the sound of this work.
Link for dramatization: https://soundcloud.com/astariamaliah/independent-woman