Текст и перевод песни Iwan Fals - Belalang Tua

Belalang Tua

Belalang tua di ujung daun
Warnanya kuning kecokelat-cokelatan
Badannya bergoyang ditiup angin
Mulutnya terus saja mengunyah
Tak kenyang-kenyang

Sudut mata kananku tak sengaja
Melihat belalang tua yang rakus
Sambil menghisap dalam rokokku
Kutulis syair tentang hati yang khawatir

Sebab menyaksikan akhir dari kerakusan
Belalang tua yang tak kenyang-kenyang

Seperti sadar kuperhatikan
Ia berhenti mengunyah
Kepalanya mendongak ke atas
Matanya melotot melihatku tak senang
Kakinya mencengkeram daun
Empat di depan dua di belakang
Bergerigi tajam

Sungutnya masih gagah menusuk langit
Berfungsi sebagai radar

Belalang tua masih saja melihat marah ke arahku
Aku menjadi grogi dibuatnya
Aku tak tahu apa yang dipikirkan
Tiba-tiba angin berhenti mendesir
Daun pun berhenti bergoyang

Walau hampir habis daun tak jadi patah
Belalang yang serakah berhenti mengunyah

Kisah belalang tua di ujung daun
Yang hampir jatuh tetapi tak jatuh
Kisah belalang tua yang berhenti mengunyah
Sebab kubilang tak kenyang-kenyang

Kisah belalang tua di ujung daun
Yang kakinya berjumlah enam
Kisah belalang tua yang berhenti mengunyah
Sebab kubilang kamu serakah

Belalang tua di ujung daun
Dengan tenang meninggalkan harta karun
Warnanya hijau kehitam-hitaman
Berserat berlendir
Bulat lonjong sebesar biji kapas

Angin yang berhenti mendesir
Digantikan hujan rintik-rintik

Aku yang menulis syair tentang hati yang khawatir
Tak tahu kapan kisah ini akan berakhir

Kisah belalang tua di ujung daun
Yang hampir jatuh tetapi tak jatuh
Kisah belalang tua yang berhenti mengunyah
Sebab kubilang tak kenyang-kenyang

Kisah belalang tua di ujung daun
Yang kakinya berjumlah enam
Kisah belalang tua yang berhenti mengunyah
Sebab kubilang kamu serakah

Old Grasshopper

An old grasshopper on the tip of a leaf,
His color is yellow and brownish-brown.
His body sways in the wind,
His mouth keeps chewing.
Never satisfied.

The corner of my right eye accidentally
Sees the greedy old grasshopper.
While inhaling my cigarette,
I write a poem about a worried heart.

For witnessing the end of the gluttony,
The old grasshopper who is never satisfied.

As if aware that I was watching,
He stopped chewing.
His head looked up,
His eyes glared at me in displeasure.
His legs gripped the leaf,
Four in front, two in back,
Sharp and serrated.

His whiskers still pierced the sky,
Acting as a radar.

The old grasshopper still looked angrily at me,
I became nervous because of it.
I don't know what he was thinking,
Suddenly the wind stopped blowing,
The leaves stopped swaying.

Although almost gone, the leaf did not break,
The greedy grasshopper stopped chewing.

The story of the old grasshopper on the tip of the leaf,
Who almost fell but did not.
The story of the old grasshopper who stopped chewing,
Because I said he was never satisfied.

The story of the old grasshopper on the tip of the leaf,
Whose legs numbered six,
The story of the old grasshopper who stopped chewing,
Because I said you were greedy.

Old grasshopper on the tip of the leaf,
Calmly leaving a treasure,
Its color green and blackish,
Fibrous and slimy,
Round and oblong, as big as a cotton seed.

The wind stopped blowing,
Replaced by a light rain.

I, who wrote a poem about a worried heart,
Do not know when this story will end.

The story of the old grasshopper on the tip of the leaf,
Who almost fell but did not.
The story of the old grasshopper who stopped chewing,
Because I said he was never satisfied.

The story of the old grasshopper on the tip of the leaf,
Whose legs numbered six,
The story of the old grasshopper who stopped chewing,
Because I said you were greedy.