I Will Again Seek You

I will again seek you
Not in the tomb of your body
This June of memory.
But in the Life of Noli and Fili
And Mi Ultimo Adios in the care
Of Laong-laan and Dimasalang of history.
Because I want again to taste the bitterness
And sweet on the truth of your writing
Now that we're on the modern time.
How many times I mixed
Your cries in my poems
But I always failed.
That's why this June of commemoration
In the tomb of your memory
I'll visit and seek
The continuation of your dreams.

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Dua a daniw

1) DARADARA A KAWES

adtoy dagiti daradara a kawes, agur-uray
iti labutab ti sabon ken ingel ti kulada:
ti agsasanggala, agsasallapid a saka
iti tokar a nabuniagan iti malakaniang;
ti masikog a bulsa iti pork barrel
a nainaw iti senado ken kongreso;
ti bukod nga ay-ayam dagiti agsisiim
iti pagaraban iti paraangan ti kapitolio;
ti masumada nga aldaw ken rabii
a pagbibinggawan iti kusapo a lamisaan-munisipio;
ti nalanit a kidkid iti latok
ti nakatapaya, nakapannimid a barangay;
ti bangbangir nga isem ti agit-itlog a kali
iti tangatang ti ekonomia;
ti musmusiigan ti pitakpitak a dapan
nga aglulusiaw a dawa kadagiti kinelleng;
ti anglem dagiti mapasag a namnama
iti gatilio dagiti antukab!
Ama, kadagita bakrangmo, agayus koma ti kalis
nga an-anibmi kadagiti an-annong
(ta saanen a kabaelan ti atang ken panyang!)

2) SANGAnaimatangak, nagsaringit manipud iti puon:
natingra, naganus, nabaludbod—
makaay-ayo, mangikarkari adu a bunga!
timmangken, nagsalumpayak, nagaponan
adu a tumatayab: napno ti kapanagan
kadagiti makailili nga ayug!
tinayana ti pudot ken lamiis:
nagtalinaed dam-eg ti daga!
ngem, ay, nagayaw, nalipatanna
ti nagsabong ken nagbunga
agingga a dimteng ti bagyo
a nangruros kadagiti bulongna,
a nangseppak iwagwagaywayna a gemgem—
naisina iti puon!
minulagatan ti init:
nauram… dimmapo!
iti nakaspakanna: rimtab dagiti saringit
manamnama a dinto sumurot
iti binusatanna a tugot…
(ti dapo iparrais laeng ti angin!)

Naipablaak iti Tawid News Magasin
Saturday, 23 June 2007

Voice In The Bottle

I am the blood and flesh
of unnamed love.
I was conceived on the numbered room
of the thirsty city.
I cared by the hands of no foundation dreams.
My food is an anemic fluid
mixed with sweat.
I wished before that I’d come out
in this dark, sticky room.
But morning not yet come
I’ve already seen the light.
I was imprisoned then
in this mirror and studied.
Here, seeds of life
have no space of growing.
I have but one wish now:
Voice in the bottle
not to become louder!

Blood and flesh of stolen love, that’s me!

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Here It Is My Son

Now that you grow, seed
That’s just planted
And left In the dessert of life,
Feel the calmness
Of the morning come.
How many sunset and sunrise
Comes and goes
That your needs
Are rooted in my tears.
Now that my sun
Is in the west, I’m repeating,
My son, don’t ever create a fire
That will burn the tree
Of your identity
Rather, accepts the truth.
Tell him: “There’s smile
In the lips of my mother
Before she left me…”
My son, be a man!

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