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		<title>Mustiar Ar&#8217;s Bilingual Poems Collection &#8211; Translated by Leni Marlina: &#8220;WALKING WITHOUT A HEAD&#8221;</title>
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		<pubDate>Sun, 04 Oct 2026 12:18:37 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Puisi]]></category>
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					<description><![CDATA[Mustiar Ar&#8217;s Bilingual (English &#8211; Indonesia) Poems Collection &#8211; Translated by Leni Marlina: &#8220;WALKING WITHOUT A HEAD2&#8221; &#8211; English Version /1/ WALKING WITHOUT A HEAD Poem by Mustiar Ar Translated (Indonesia- English) by Leni Marlina _ He keeps walking without a head. Even the wind is bewildered. His feet move toward a road without a [&#8230;]]]></description>
										<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Mustiar Ar&#8217;s Bilingual (English &#8211; Indonesia) Poems Collection &#8211; Translated by Leni Marlina: &#8220;WALKING WITHOUT A HEAD2&#8221;</p>
<p>&#8211;</p>
<p>English Version</p>
<p>/1/</p>
<p><strong>WALKING WITHOUT A HEAD</strong></p>
<p><strong>Poem by Mustiar Ar</strong></p>
<p><strong>Translated (Indonesia- English) by Leni Marlina</strong></p>
<p>_</p>
<p>He keeps walking<br />
without a head.<br />
Even the wind is bewildered.<br />
His feet move toward<br />
a road without a name.<br />
The land falls silent.<br />
His mouth keeps speaking,<br />
while reason is nowhere to be found.</p>
<p>_</p>
<p><em>Kp. Belakang, Aceh, 1980</em></p>
<p>&#8212;</p>
<p>/2/</p>
<p><strong>TEUKU UMAR</strong></p>
<p><strong>Poem by Mustiar Ar</strong></p>
<p><strong>Translated (Indonesia &#8211; English) by Leni Marlina</strong></p>
<p>_</p>
<p>Teuku Umar rises<br />
from the pages of history.<br />
The rencong has become a household ornament.<br />
Once, lives were wagered for honor,<br />
but trust is now traded for applause and money.<br />
Flags are raised,<br />
speeches soar higher and higher,<br />
while beneath them, the people count their stale rice.<br />
If the hero were to ask:<br />
“Whom does this nation belong to?”<br />
perhaps the chairs<br />
would suddenly lose their legs.</p>
<p>_</p>
<p><em>Batu Putih, Aceh, February 10th, 2023</em></p>
<p>&#8212;</p>
<p>/3/</p>
<p><strong>THE CHAIRS AT PLAY</strong></p>
<p><strong>Poem by Mustiar Ar</strong></p>
<p><strong>Translated (Indonesia &#8211; English) by Leni Marlina</strong></p>
<p>_</p>
<p>In the people&#8217;s house,<br />
the chairs embrace one another,<br />
dancing in silence.<br />
The people wait,<br />
their hands held out,<br />
their prayers falling onto the table.<br />
Hunger comes knocking.<br />
The nation becomes a game.<br />
Trust is slowly sawn apart.</p>
<p>_</p>
<p><em>Aceh, September 15th, 2026</em></p>
<p>&#8212;</p>
<p>/4/</p>
<p><strong>NUTRITION AND TRUST</strong></p>
<p><strong>Poem by Mustiar Ar</strong></p>
<p><strong>Translated (Indonesia &#8211; English) by Leni Marlina</strong></p>
<p>_</p>
<p>Steam rises from the rice.<br />
Let trust never rot<br />
in the hands of power.<br />
Children wait<br />
for a plate of nourishment<br />
and honesty,<br />
not another sweet promise.</p>
<p>&#8211;</p>
<p><em>Meulaboh, Aceh, September 22nd, 2026</em></p>
<p>&#8212;</p>
<p>/5/</p>
<p><strong>ACEH, PARADISE WITH A SCAR</strong></p>
<p><strong>Poem by Mustiar Ar</strong></p>
<p><strong>Translated (Indonesia &#8211; English) by Leni Marlina</strong></p>
<p>_</p>
<p>Aceh was born from prayer,<br />
and grew alongside history.<br />
Its seas are blue,<br />
holding wounds that do not easily spill.<br />
The rencong still glimmers<br />
against the chests of its people,<br />
yet trust sometimes fades<br />
beneath the chairs of power.</p>
<p>Its soil is fertile,<br />
its seas are rich,<br />
its sky is wide.<br />
The people learn patience<br />
from promises that evaporate too quickly.<br />
Development arrives<br />
with banners and smiles,<br />
then leaves,<br />
leaving roads<br />
still lost in thought.</p>
<p>We do not ask<br />
for palaces to rise in our yards.<br />
Just do not reduce the people<br />
to figures on a ledger.<br />
For paradise is not merely beautiful on a map.<br />
It is felt<br />
when justice truly<br />
finds its way<br />
into our homes.</p>
<p>_</p>
<p><em>Kuala Bubon, Aceh, September 20th, 2025</em></p>
<p>&#8212;</p>
<p>/6/</p>
<p><strong>THE LAND THAT CALLED ME IN MY MOTHER&#8217;S VOICE</strong></p>
<p><strong>Poem by Mustiar Ar</strong></p>
<p><strong>Translated (Indonesia &#8211; English) by Leni Marlina</strong></p>
<p>_</p>
<p>Until the earth called me<br />
in my mother&#8217;s voice.<br />
When I awoke,<br />
my body was still whole,<br />
but my name<br />
had already been buried.<br />
Morning arrived carrying a hoe,<br />
digging silence<br />
from the chest of the earth.</p>
<p>I smiled at death.<br />
It turned out<br />
life had not yet finished<br />
writing me.</p>
<p>_</p>
<p><em>Meulaboh, Aceh, September 2026</em></p>
<p>&#8212;</p>
<p>/7/</p>
<p><strong>LIFE IN MOTION</strong></p>
<p><strong>Poem by Mustiar Ar</strong></p>
<p><strong>Translated (Indonesia &#8211; English) by Leni Marlina</strong></p>
<p>_</p>
<p>Morning grew legs.<br />
The sun guided<br />
my shadow.<br />
The road lost<br />
its ending,<br />
then grew again<br />
beneath my feet.<br />
I planted<br />
a single grain of time<br />
inside my chest.<br />
It grew<br />
into a day.<br />
Night smiled.<br />
Death had not yet arrived.<br />
Life whispered.</p>
<p>_</p>
<p><em>Kampung Pasir, Aceh, 1986</em></p>
<p>&#8212;</p>
<p><strong>About the Poet &#8211; Mustiar Ar</strong></p>
<p><img fetchpriority="high" decoding="async" class="alignnone size-medium wp-image-10886" src="https://www.suaraanaknegeri.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/09/Screenshot_20260907_164316_WhatsApp-175x300.jpg" alt="" width="175" height="300" srcset="https://www.suaraanaknegeri.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/09/Screenshot_20260907_164316_WhatsApp-175x300.jpg 175w, https://www.suaraanaknegeri.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/09/Screenshot_20260907_164316_WhatsApp-597x1024.jpg 597w, https://www.suaraanaknegeri.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/09/Screenshot_20260907_164316_WhatsApp.jpg 657w" sizes="(max-width: 175px) 100vw, 175px" /></p>
<p>Mustiar Ar was born in Meulaboh, West Aceh, on April 15, 1967. He wrote poetry and reflections on life, humanity, Aceh, and the simple things he encountered in everyday life. He began writing at a young age and had published his work in various media outlets and anthologies. In his daily life, he worked as a parking attendant. For him, writing was never about becoming someone important. It was simply a way of tending to words, giving voice to what lay within, and continuing to create for as long as he was given the chance. Email: mustiarar5@gmail.com</p>
<p>&#8212;</p>
<p><strong>About the Translator— Leni Marlina</strong></p>
<p>Leni Marlina is an Indonesian poet, writer, translator, and lecturer in the English Department, Faculty of Languages and Arts, at Universitas Negeri Padang, Indonesia since 2006. Her creative and scholarly work spans poetry, fiction, essays, literary criticism, review, translation, and literacy studies.</p>
<p>&#8211;</p>
<p><strong>About the Translator &#8211; Leni Marlina</strong></p>
<p><img decoding="async" class="alignnone size-medium wp-image-10891" src="https://www.suaraanaknegeri.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/09/Screenshot_20260907_172310_ChatGPT-263x300.jpg" alt="" width="263" height="300" srcset="https://www.suaraanaknegeri.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/09/Screenshot_20260907_172310_ChatGPT-263x300.jpg 263w, https://www.suaraanaknegeri.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/09/Screenshot_20260907_172310_ChatGPT-897x1024.jpg 897w, https://www.suaraanaknegeri.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/09/Screenshot_20260907_172310_ChatGPT-768x877.jpg 768w, https://www.suaraanaknegeri.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/09/Screenshot_20260907_172310_ChatGPT.jpg 1080w" sizes="(max-width: 263px) 100vw, 263px" /></p>
<p>Leni Marlina is an Indonesian poet, writer, translator, and lecturer in the English Department, Faculty of Languages and Arts, at Universitas Negeri Padang, Indonesia since 2006. Her creative and scholarly work spans poetry, fiction, essays, literary criticism, review, translation, and literacy studies.</p>
<p>&#8212;&#8212;-</p>
<p>Indonesian Version</p>
<p><strong>Kumpulan Puisi Karya Mustiar Ar: &#8220;BERJALAN TANPA KEPALA&#8221;</strong></p>
<p>/1/</p>
<p><strong>BERJALAN TANPA KEPALA</strong></p>
<p><strong>Puisi: Mustiar Ar</strong></p>
<p>&#8211;</p>
<p>Ia terus berjalan<br />
tanpa kepala<br />
angin pun bingung<br />
Kakinya menuju<br />
jalan yang tak bernama<br />
negeri terdiam<br />
Mulutnya bicara<br />
akal entah di mana</p>
<p>&#8211;</p>
<p><em>Kp. Belakang, Aceh, 1980</em></p>
<p>&#8212;</p>
<p>/2/</p>
<p><strong>TEUKU UMAR</strong></p>
<p><strong>Puisi: Mustiar Ar</strong></p>
<p>&#8211;</p>
<p>Teuku Umar bangkit<br />
Dari lembaran sejarah<br />
Rincong jadi hiasan rumah.<br />
Dulu nyawa dipertaruhkan demi marwah,<br />
Tapi amanah ditukar tepukan dan rupiah.<br />
Bendera berkibar,<br />
pidato makin tinggi,<br />
rakyat di bawahnya menghitung nasi basi<br />
Andai pahlawan bertanya:<br />
“Untuk siapa negeri?”<br />
mungkin kursi-kursi mendadak kehilangan kaki.</p>
<p>&#8211;</p>
<p><em>Batu Putih, Aceh, 10 Februari 2023</em></p>
<p>&#8212;</p>
<p>/3/</p>
<p><strong>KURSI YANG SEDANG BERMAIN</strong></p>
<p><strong>Puisi: Mustiar Ar</strong></p>
<p>&#8211;</p>
<p>Di rumah rakyat,<br />
kursi saling berpeluk,<br />
menari diam.<br />
Rakyat menanti,<br />
tangan saling menadah,<br />
doa jatuh ke meja.<br />
Lapar mengetuk,<br />
negeri jadi permainan,<br />
amanah digergaji pelan.</p>
<p>&#8211;</p>
<p><em>Aceh, 15 September 2026</em></p>
<p>&#8212;</p>
<p>/4/</p>
<p><strong>GIZI DAN AMANAH</strong></p>
<p><strong>Puisi: Mustiar Ar</strong></p>
<p>&#8211;</p>
<p>Nasi mengepul<br />
amanah jangan membusuk<br />
di tangan kuasa<br />
Anak menanti<br />
sepiring gizi dan jujur<br />
bukan janji manis</p>
<p>&#8211;</p>
<p><em>Meulaboh, Aceh, 22 September 2026</em></p>
<p>&#8212;</p>
<p>/5/</p>
<p><strong>ACEH, TANAH SURGA YANG TERGORES</strong></p>
<p><strong>Puisi: Mustiar Ar</strong></p>
<p>&#8211;</p>
<p>Aceh lahir dari doa, tumbuh bersama sejarah<br />
lautnya biru,<br />
menyimpan luka yang tak mudah tumpah<br />
rencong masih berkilau di dada anak negeri<br />
namun amanah kadang redup di bawah kursi</p>
<p>Tanahnya subur,<br />
lautnya kaya,<br />
langitnya luas<br />
rakyat belajar sabar dari janji yang lekas menguap<br />
pembangunan datang membawa spanduk dan senyum<br />
lalu pergi,<br />
meninggalkan jalan yang masih termenung</p>
<p>Kami tak meminta istana berdiri di halaman<br />
cukup jangan jadikan rakyat sekadar hitungan<br />
sebab surga bukan hanya indah di peta<br />
ia terasa ketika keadilan benar-benar sampai ke rumah kita.</p>
<p>&#8211;<br />
<em>Kuala Bubon, Aceh, 20 September 2025</em></p>
<p>&#8212;</p>
<p>/6/</p>
<p><strong>TANAH YANG MEMANGGIL DENGAN SUARA IBU</strong></p>
<p><strong>Puisi: Mustiar Ar</strong></p>
<p>_</p>
<p>Hingga tanah memanggilku dengan suara ibu.<br />
Ketika terbangun,<br />
tubuhku masih utuh,<br />
tetapi namaku telah dikuburkan lebih dulu.<br />
Pagi datang membawa cangkul,<br />
menggali sunyi dari dada bumi.<br />
Aku tersenyum kepada kematian<br />
ternyata hidup belum selesai menulisku.</p>
<p>&#8211;<br />
<em>Meulaboh, Aceh, September 2026</em></p>
<p>&#8212;</p>
<p>/7/</p>
<p><strong>HIDUP YANG BERJALAN</strong></p>
<p><strong>Puisi: Mustiar Ar</strong></p>
<p>&#8211;</p>
<p>Pagi berkaki<br />
matahari menuntun<br />
bayanganku<br />
Jalan kehilangan<br />
ujungnya tumbuh kembali<br />
di telapak kaki<br />
Aku menanam<br />
sebutir waktu di dada<br />
tumbuh menjadi hari<br />
Malam tersenyum<br />
kematian belum datang<br />
hidup berbisik</p>
<p>&#8211;</p>
<p><em>Kampung Pasir, Aceh, 1986</em></p>
<p>&#8212;&#8212;</p>
<p><strong>Tentang Penyair &#8211; Mustiar Ar</strong></p>
<p>Mustiar Ar lahir di Meulaboh, Aceh Barat, 15 April 1967. Ia menulis puisi dan catatan tentang kehidupan, kemanusiaan, Aceh, serta hal-hal sederhana yang ditemuinya sehari-hari. Ia mulai menulis sejak usia muda dan pernah menerbitkan karya di sejumlah media dan antologi. Dalam keseharian, ia bekerja sebagai tukang parkir. Baginya, menulis bukan tentang menjadi siapa-siapa, melainkan cara sederhana untuk merawat kata, menyampaikan suara hati, dan tetap berkarya selama masih diberi kesempatan. Email: mustiarar5@gmail.com</p>
<p>&#8212;</p>
<p><strong>Tentang Penerjemah — Leni Marlina</strong></p>
<p>Leni Marlina adalah penyair, penulis, penerjemah, dan dosen pada Departemen Sastra Inggris, Fakultas Bahasa dan Seni, Universitas Negeri Padang, Indonesia, sejak 2006. Karya kreatif dan akademiknya meliputi puisi, fiksi, esai, kritik sastra, penerjemahan, dan kajian literasi.</p>
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		<title>Mustiar Ar&#8217;s Bilingual Poem Collection Translated by Leni Marlina: &#8220;THE WOUNDED LAND&#8221;</title>
		<link>https://www.suaraanaknegeri.com/sastra/mustiar-ars-bilingual-poem-collection-translated-by-leni-marlina-the-wounded-land</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[admin]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 07 Sep 2026 12:35:50 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Puisi]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Sastra]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Bilingual (Indonesia - English) Poem Collection]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Mustiar Ar]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[THE WOUNDED EARTH]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Translated by Leni Marlina]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://www.suaraanaknegeri.com/?p=10881</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[Mustiar Ar&#8217;s Bilingual (Indonesia &#8211; English) Poem Collection Translated by Leni Marlina: &#8220;THE WOUNDED LAND&#8221; /1/ THE WOUNDED LAND Poem by Mustiar Ar Translated (Indonesia &#8211; English) by Leni Marlina &#8211; This earth is not merely a stretch of land, within it flows the blood of our forebears. Greedy hands gnaw away at the earth&#8217;s [&#8230;]]]></description>
										<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><strong>Mustiar Ar&#8217;s Bilingual (Indonesia &#8211; English) Poem Collection Translated by Leni Marlina: &#8220;THE WOUNDED LAND&#8221;</strong></p>
<p>/1/</p>
<p><strong>THE WOUNDED LAND</strong></p>
<p><em><strong>Poem by Mustiar Ar</strong></em></p>
<p><em><strong>Translated (Indonesia &#8211; English) by Leni Marlina</strong></em></p>
<p>&#8211;</p>
<p>This earth is not merely a stretch of land,<br />
within it flows the blood of our forebears.<br />
Greedy hands gnaw away at the earth&#8217;s belly,<br />
forests lose their hair, rivers carry their wounds.<br />
Upon the barren soil, the people count their rice,<br />
while those in power count their profits.<br />
O, those in power, listen to the voice of the earth—<br />
it is silent, but it never forgets.</p>
<p>&#8211;</p>
<p><em>Meulaboh, Aceh, Indonesia, 1980</em></p>
<p>&#8212;</p>
<p>/2/</p>
<p><strong>I AM NOT YET FINISHED WITH LIFE</strong></p>
<p><em><strong>Poem by Mustiar Ar</strong></em></p>
<p><em><strong>Translated (Indonesia &#8211; English) by Leni Marlina</strong></em></p>
<p>&#8211;</p>
<p>I have fallen before, between silence and wounds,<br />
yet the earth taught me how to rise again.<br />
The sky knows how many times I have held back my tears,<br />
and the night keeps the cries I have never spoken aloud.<br />
I keep walking, though my steps are not always steady,<br />
carrying dreams almost broken inside my chest.<br />
For life is not about who is the strongest,<br />
but who keeps enduring when loneliness arrives.<br />
If today I can still write my name,<br />
it is because hope has not yet chosen to leave.<br />
Let time test my body and my soul,<br />
for I am not yet finished with this life.</p>
<p>&#8211;</p>
<p><em>Meulaboh, Aceh, Indonesia, June 24th, 2026</em></p>
<p>&#8212;</p>
<p>/3/</p>
<p><strong>SILENCE CALLS MY NAME</strong></p>
<p><em><strong>Poem by Mustiar Ar</strong></em></p>
<p><em><strong>Translated (Indonesia &#8211; English) by </strong></em><em><strong>Leni Marlina</strong></em></p>
<p>&#8211;</p>
<p>Night slowly closes its door,<br />
leaving me alone with the shadows.<br />
In the distance, the wind calls my name,<br />
like longing that cannot find an address.<br />
I gaze at the sky without asking<br />
why the stars have chosen to stay apart.<br />
Perhaps silence is teaching me<br />
that loss does not always mean the end.<br />
Amid the darkness, I find a ray of light,<br />
growing from a wound I once hated.<br />
Now I am no longer afraid of silence,<br />
for there I have found myself.</p>
<p>&#8211;</p>
<p><em>Meulaboh, Aceh, Indonesia, September 5th, 2026</em></p>
<p>&#8212;-</p>
<p><strong>About the Poet — Mustiar Ar</strong></p>
<p>Mustiar Ar, affectionately known as Bang One, was born in Meulaboh, West Aceh. He is known as a writer and arts practitioner. Rooted in simplicity, he writes about humanity, honesty, and the struggles of life. His works emerge from the streets, remain grounded in reality, and speak with a courageous yet compassionate heart.</p>
<p>&#8212;</p>
<p><strong>About — Leni Marlina</strong></p>
<p>Leni Marlina is an Indonesian poet, writer, translator, and lecturer in the English Department, Faculty of Languages and Arts, at Universitas Negeri Padang, Indonesia since 2006. Her creative and scholarly work spans poetry, fiction, essays, literary criticism, review, translation, and literacy studies.</p>
<p>&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;-</p>
<p><strong>Kumpulan Puisi Karya Mustiar Ar: &#8220;TANAH YANG TERLUKA&#8221;</strong></p>
<p>/1/</p>
<p><strong>TANAH YANG TERLUKA</strong></p>
<p><strong><em>Puisi: Mustiar Ar</em></strong></p>
<p>&#8211;</p>
<p>Tanah ini bukan sekadar hamparan,<br />
di dalamnya darah para pendahulu.<br />
Tangan serakah menggerogoti perut bumi,<br />
hutan kehilangan rambut, sungai membawa luka.<br />
Di tanah kerontang, rakyat menghitung beras,<br />
sementara penguasa menghitung keuntungan.<br />
Duh, penguasa, dengarkan suara tanah—<br />
ia diam, tetapi tak pernah lupa.</p>
<p>&#8211;</p>
<p><em>Meulaboh, Aceh, 1980</em></p>
<p><em>&#8212;&#8211;</em></p>
<p>/2/</p>
<p>AKU BELUM SELESAI DENGAN HIDUP</p>
<p><strong><em>Puisi: Mustiar Ar</em></strong></p>
<p>&#8211;</p>
<p>Aku pernah jatuh di antara sunyi dan luka,<br />
namun tanah mengajariku cara untuk bangkit.<br />
Langit tahu berapa kali aku menahan air mata,<br />
dan malam menyimpan jerit yang tak pernah terucap.<br />
Aku berjalan meski langkah tak selalu sempurna,<br />
membawa mimpi yang nyaris patah di dada.<br />
Sebab hidup bukan tentang siapa paling kuat,<br />
melainkan siapa yang tetap bertahan ketika sepi.<br />
Jika hari ini aku masih menulis namaku,<br />
itu karena harapan belum memilih pergi.<br />
Biarlah waktu menguji tubuh dan jiwaku,<br />
sebab aku belum selesai dengan hidup ini.</p>
<p>&#8211;</p>
<p><em>Meulaboh, Aceh, 24 Juni 2026</em></p>
<p>&#8212;-</p>
<p>/3/</p>
<p><strong>SUNYI MEMANGGIL NAMAKU</strong></p>
<p><strong><em>Puisi: Mustiar Ar</em></strong></p>
<p>&#8211;</p>
<p>Malam menutup pintunya perlahan,<br />
meninggalkan aku bersama bayang-bayang.<br />
Di kejauhan, angin menyebut namaku,<br />
seperti rindu yang tak menemukan alamat.<br />
Aku menatap langit tanpa bertanya,<br />
mengapa bintang memilih berjauhan.<br />
Barangkali sunyi sedang mengajarkanku,<br />
bahwa kehilangan tak selalu berarti berakhir.<br />
Di antara gelap, kutemukan seberkas cahaya,<br />
tumbuh dari luka yang pernah kubenci.<br />
Kini aku tak lagi takut pada kesunyian,<br />
sebab di sanalah aku menemukan diriku sendiri.</p>
<p>&#8211;</p>
<p><em>Meulaboh, Aceh, 5 September 2026</em></p>
<p>&#8212;&#8212;</p>
<p><strong>Tentang Penyair &#8211; Mustiar Ar</strong></p>
<p><em> <img fetchpriority="high" decoding="async" class="alignnone size-medium wp-image-10886" src="https://www.suaraanaknegeri.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/09/Screenshot_20260907_164316_WhatsApp-175x300.jpg" alt="" width="175" height="300" srcset="https://www.suaraanaknegeri.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/09/Screenshot_20260907_164316_WhatsApp-175x300.jpg 175w, https://www.suaraanaknegeri.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/09/Screenshot_20260907_164316_WhatsApp-597x1024.jpg 597w, https://www.suaraanaknegeri.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/09/Screenshot_20260907_164316_WhatsApp.jpg 657w" sizes="(max-width: 175px) 100vw, 175px" /></em></p>
<p>Mustiar Ar, atau yang akrab dengan sebutan Bang One, lahir di Meulaboh, Aceh Barat. Ia dikenal sebagai penulis dan penggiat seni. Dari kesederhanaan, ia menulis tentang kemanusiaan, kejujuran, dan perjuangan hidup. Karyanya lahir dari jalanan, berpijak pada realitas, dan berbicara dengan hati yang berani serta santun.</p>
<p>&#8212;-</p>
<p><strong>Tentang Penerjemah — Leni Marlina</strong></p>
<p><img decoding="async" class="alignnone  wp-image-10919" src="https://www.suaraanaknegeri.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/09/WhatsApp-Image-2026-09-07-at-7.26.54-PM-263x300.jpeg" alt="" width="203" height="232" srcset="https://www.suaraanaknegeri.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/09/WhatsApp-Image-2026-09-07-at-7.26.54-PM-263x300.jpeg 263w, https://www.suaraanaknegeri.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/09/WhatsApp-Image-2026-09-07-at-7.26.54-PM-897x1024.jpeg 897w, https://www.suaraanaknegeri.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/09/WhatsApp-Image-2026-09-07-at-7.26.54-PM-768x877.jpeg 768w, https://www.suaraanaknegeri.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/09/WhatsApp-Image-2026-09-07-at-7.26.54-PM.jpeg 1080w" sizes="(max-width: 203px) 100vw, 203px" /></p>
<p>Leni Marlina adalah penyair, penulis, penerjemah, dan dosen pada Departemen Sastra Inggris, Fakultas Bahasa dan Seni, Universitas Negeri Padang, Indonesia, sejak 2006. Karya kreatif dan akademiknya meliputi puisi, fiksi, esai, kritik sastra, penerjemahan, dan kajian literasi.</p>
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