This poem needs an introduction.

Once I met two realy cool guys from Indonesia. They didn't speak a word of English and I knew nothing about Indonesia (although I later discovered that I knew a very little bit about theatre in Indonesia). As I got to know them a little better, and they spent some time in America they learned a fair bit of English and I learned a tiny bit of Indonesian, and somehow we learned to communicate.

This is a poem which has little to do with those two gentlemen I was just writing about. This is about a third Indonesian man who came a little later and who spoke a little English, and I learned how to communicate with him. I still remember that one night at Daie when we were buying beef and I told him at least a hundred times that yes the meat he was buying was in fact beef, and not pork and then went on to show him where the pork was, and I also pointed out where the chicken was, the lamb and other bits of meat on sale. Eventually he bought the beef. Thank the All I have no particular religious ties to anything.

So one day I wrote a line in my book, and this man finished it off for me as a poem. The upshot of all this is it's a lovely, lovely poem, but not very easy to understand because the grammer is off because English is a third language for this friend of mine. Maybe even fourth. I didn't ask him how many languages he knows.

And now I'll finally include the poem in my ramblings. I think I will call the poem:


School, that's over with now isn't it?
but I am study isn't finish.
Lovely for long time everywher, everytime.
So but life some time alone

by me and Edy Utama.

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