The Richest Man

The Richest Man 

“Look, there she is, the jamu (bitter-sweet-hot health-drinks) vendor with her bakul (basket) jamu  on her back. Her great  riches – as she’s young, healthy and as fresh, beautiful, lovely as morning – appear despite her poor living conditions.” So said Pak Arif. 

   “I, myself am full of riches almost bursting.

Riches through my eyes of finding a paradise almost anywhere;

Through feeling when I’m stepping in pure, fresh, streaming, flowing mountain water and cup it in my hands;

Through hearing it rushing in  a river, gurgle, murmur, splashing in a brook or sawah (rice-field) water;

Through breathing deeply the pure, fresh air;Through wetting myself in raindrops which so wonderfully seem to fall from heaven;

Through walking barefoot to feel the dew, cool floor;

Through a healthy hunger and being alive. 

“Then there are the riches, treasures of being healthy, being happy, being free;

Of loving and being loved;

Of the carefree young and of the old with ripened thoughts;

Of those who became mothers;

Of infinite thoughts and fantasy;

Of being able to give and receive the most precious gifts;

Of … 

“The richest man

Without much effort, exertion, he has a huge income,

Stolen he doesn’t become poor, suppose it could be stolen,

The more he gives, the more he receives, instead of becoming empty,

He receives a lot and doesn’t have to pay. 

“He is a wandering fortune.” I thought someone had said this, but if I’m mistaken, it must be me, as I would have found it myself. Ha, ha, ha.” So said Pak Arif to me. 

1977