Iridescent Alvrose

Di kehidupan modern ini, makin hari, dunia makin kehilangan sisi puitisnya. Segala hal terkatakan dengan lugas, ringkas. “ Love ya, babe ,” atau bahkan “ILY” menjadi ihwal familier di antara sepasang kekasih untuk mengungkapkan cintanya. Hambar, membosankan, dan sama sekali tidak mewakili perasaan—jika perasaan itu benar ada. Paling tidak, itu bagiku. Pada esensinya, cinta harus diungkapkan dengan sekuat tenaga. Kau akan lebih mudah mengenalinya jika itu terejawantah dalam tindakan. Namun, jika itu ucapan, oh dear , “ILY” saja tidak cukup. Semua orang—bahkan yang tidak saling cinta—pun bisa mengatakannya.      Dua ratus tiga puluh tahun lalu, seorang pujangga Skotlandia, Robert Burns, menyampaikan perasaannya dengan sangat elok. Itu termaktub dalam manuskrip puisinya yang berjudul A Red, Red Rose. Aku teringat ini saat memutar playlist lamaku di Spotify. Bertengger di sana sebuah lagu berjudul My Love Is Like a Red Red Rose yang pada dasarnya merupakan puisi Robert Burns yang dilaguka

Halo! Di bagian kedua analisis lirik lagu Little by Little yang dibawakan oleh Oasis ini, saya akan membagikan terjemahan bebas dan penafsiran saya terhadap lagu ini. Untuk kalian yang belum membaca bagian pertama, silakan  klik di sini untuk membaca. :) Di postingan ini, saya akan membagikan penafsiran bebas saya mengenai lirik, video klip, hubungan antarkeduanya, serta simbolisasi atau hal-hal yang menyiratkan sesuatu dalam video klip atau liriknya. Selamat membaca. :) ----- Lagu dimulai dengan sebuah adegan di mana seseorang berdiri di pinggiran jalan di antara orang-orang yang ramai berlalu-lalang. Perbedaan yang mencolok antara tokoh utama kita ini dengan orang-orang lain yaitu terletak pada dua hal: ukuran tubuhnya dan apa yang dia lakukan di sana. Ukuran tubuhnya jauh lebih kecil dibandingkan orang-orang lain. Di tengah hiruk pikuk orang yang berjalan dengan cepat dan seakan memiliki tujuan yang jelas itu, tokoh utama kita ini justru terlihat berbeda. Ganjil. Mungkin

Pic Source: Shin Kwang Ho   Honestly I just don't understand the concept. Some people have kind of privilege to do wrong, to say wrong. Including to say wrong statements about us, totally wrong ones. But the funny thing is that we do not have any right to say it is wrong. We must not correct them, even for telling those statements they made were incorrect. It is sternly prohibited, by a particular law we officially believe. A law that runs in our veins, brought by blood from generations to generations. Again, it is prohibited. We cannot criticize this law or you will be burnt in hell. And we cannot also criticize 'these zealots', because, I don't know. We just can't. Or if you insist, everyone would call you a rebel. An obstinate, insubordinate rebel. Everyone will hate you. Your friends. Your families. And in the end you will hate yourself. Fact dies, you fell, and nobody cares about you. So what's the point of right and wrong? What's th

Say something to the breezing wind and the pouring rain To the cloudy skies and the dewy terrain Would those choices come back to greet me for the second time? Though I know they have already gone and never going to be offered to me again Even if your flooding tears becoming legend in history of men I know there is nothing anymore can be mend This disequilibrium, has always been sorrows that have no end Malang, 22 Desember 2018 with Green Day's songs in my headphones Pict. source

Some people get their living from their kindness They have eager intention to help others They work with their heart and have many admirers Some people get their living from their cleverness They can easily do this and that Achieve anything they want right on the hand Some people are hard workers They can stay up all days and nights without slumber Like there is a strong connection between their obsession and body system Some people are just nothing Not because they do nothing But that is how life works Some people are pushed by their fate too hard Though they have done everything They still get nothing Yet (?) ----------------------------------------- Alvi Rosyidah  @alvrose_ Pic:  Dingyiyi Artwork

A place where the piano recite With the cuckoo on branches alight Deep she feels overexcite For it was a starry lovely night Staring at the light on the furthest sight Oh, she knows, it is her satellite An out of reach gallant knight Who lived for a long-lasting delight Oh, she always loves that sort of requite Where the earth and blurry sky reunite She is standing upright and feels alright For she knows, What she wants is a soothing winter twilight -------------------------------------- Alvi Rosyidah @alvrose_ Pic source:  :)

Once upon a time There was a boy who has attempted crime Not a big one, but everyone kept saying it’s still a ‘crime’ They ignored him during schooltime Left him as his soul was full of grime He fell to the bottom of hell with nowhere to climb He felt only darkness in the daytime And saw nothing at the night time People were passing by, overlooked his existence Time did the same, neglecting his inconvenience But one didn’t do the same He watched the incident and call him showing His benevolence The boy ran quickly as he heard His voice He stumbled and fell upon His hands He gave the boy reassurance He let the boy cried and screamed and vented He cherished him tightly and patted his shoulders As He wanted him to always remember His kindness Every time he falls down Every time from the world he’s being thrown Alvi Rosyidah Malang, August 2018   Pic Source: Pascal Campion Art