Suratman Markasan
Born
in Singapore, Straits Settlements, British Malaya
December 29, 1930
Died
February 27, 2024
|
Penghulu
by |
|
|
Subuh Hilang Senja
—
published
1994
|
|
|
Kumpulan Cerpen Kembara: Minum Kopi Di Boigeet House
—
published
2017
|
|
|
Dari Perang Datang Sampai Kamoe San Masuk Melayu: Kumpulan Cerpen
—
published
2015
|
|
|
Puisi-Puisi Pilihan Suratman Markasan: Selected poems of Suratman Markasan
by
—
published
2014
|
|
|
Puisi Luka dan Puisi Duka
—
published
2004
|
|
|
Tiga Lelaki
—
published
1994
—
2 editions
|
|
|
Potret Isteri Yang Hilang
—
published
1993
—
2 editions
|
|
|
Langau Menyerang Masjid Dan Cerita-Cerita Lainnya
—
published
2007
|
|
|
Dunia Bukan Kita Punya
—
published
2011
|
|
“Pak Suleh recalled the atmosphere on his island of Pulau Sebidang, which had been ruled by his ancestors for more than a hundred years. Now it had been passed to foreign hands—whichever nation from whatever foreign world which had been claiming the island was theirs—such that he and his ancestors who had lived on that island for generation after generation had been chased away to live in these birdhouses. They had now inherited these congested breathing diseases.
Why was it that he could no longer enjoy the wind which blows from the sea, which is very much one of God’s incomparable benevolences? He could no longer savour the swaying coconut trees, ketapang trees, beringin trees and other trees which whistled and murmured when caressed by the winds as their dried leaves fell onto the sand, mixed with red and white flowers scattered all over the pristine white beach, resembling the moving clouds on a wide piece of white paper.
I have lost everything, thought Pak Suleh deep in his heart.”
― Penghulu
Why was it that he could no longer enjoy the wind which blows from the sea, which is very much one of God’s incomparable benevolences? He could no longer savour the swaying coconut trees, ketapang trees, beringin trees and other trees which whistled and murmured when caressed by the winds as their dried leaves fell onto the sand, mixed with red and white flowers scattered all over the pristine white beach, resembling the moving clouds on a wide piece of white paper.
I have lost everything, thought Pak Suleh deep in his heart.”
― Penghulu







