Showing posts with label Philippine literature. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Philippine literature. Show all posts

Friday, January 16, 2009

Flores del Agua




FLORES DEL AGUA
Flores del Agua. Water Lilies.
Bulaklak ng tubig.
Minsa'y kulay puti, minsa'y kulay rosas.
Nabubuhay ang water lily
sa gitna ng munting lawa
na hindi tumitinag.

Bumubukadkad ito tuwing umaga,
at sa magdamag ay itinitiklop
na waring nagpapahinga,
ang kanyang mga talulot.

Ang flores del agua
Ay hindi natin pinipitas.
Hindi ninanasang masamyo ang halimuyak.
Hinahayaan natin itong lumutang-lutang
nang payapa,
sa ilog na tahimik o sa tubigan.

Sinta, hindi ako kailanman
magiging iyong-iyo.
At hindi ka kailanman
magiging aking-akin.
Ngunit ang pagmamahal
ay wala sa pag-angkin.
At tulad ng bulaklak ng tubig
na kahit mula sa lusak
ay umaahon upang makita, madama, ang rikit
hindi man hinahawakan sa mga palad,
batid kong may dapat ipagpasalamat
sa pagliyag,
itinaya man natin
ang lahat,
ang lahat-lahat.

Joi Barrios





WATER LILY
Flores del agua. Water Lily.
Bulaklak ng tubig.
Pink and white,
the many-petalled water lily
thrives in lakes or ponds,
Still waters.

It blooms in the morning,
but closes its petals at night,
as if to rest.

These are flowers uncut.
We do not make bouquets of them,
nor buy them to adorn our homes.
We leave them be,
floating peacefully,
in quiet waters.

My love, I can never be completely yours,
Nor you completely mine.
But to love is not to own.
The water lily
rises above muck and silt,
so that we may know its beauty
without holding it in our hands.
We have risked all
for this brief moment of passion
without regret,
dare we say,
without regret.

Sunday, November 11, 2007

Ampalaya

AMPALAYA: ISANG LIHAM PARA SA AKING MGA MAG-AARAL NG FILIPINO SA ANN ARBOR*
(For Abby, Colleen, Melissa, Mel, Jay, Jeremy, Jillian, Tom, Antoinette, Jason, Jerry, Clare, and Marco)

Ampalaya.
Mapait na gulay
Ang ampalaya.

Kasimpait ng mga salaysay
Mula sa tinubuang bayan:
Dose anyos na bata, nagbigti dahil sa kahirapan.
Dalawang estudyanteng aktibista,
Ginahasa at pinahirapan ng militar.
Pitong mangggawang magsasaka,
Binaril habang nagwewelga.

Sana’y hindi ganito kapait
Ang mga balitang natatanggap.
Sana’y maaaring ibabad
Sa asin,
Banlawan sa tubig,
Pigain hanggang sa mawala ang pait
Tulad ng pagkikibit-balikat at pagbibingi-bingihan
Ng ilang kababayan.
Tulad ng paghahanda ng ampalaya.

Kung sana’y makapagkuwento na lang ako
Ng istoryang singtamis ng leche flan,
Singsarap at singlutong
Ng lechon.
Ngunit walang tamis-sarap-lutong
Sa balita sa panahon
Ng panganib at panlilinlang
Sa ating bayan.

Ngunit kung makikinig kayo,
Mahal kong mga mag-aaral,
Sa mga kuwentong ampalaya
Mula sa bayan ng inyong mga ninuno,
Inyong mababatid
Na ang pagiging Filipino,
Ay wala sa dila at tiyan
Na kayang sikmurain ang pagkain
Ng ampalayang malupit ang pait.

BITTER MELON: A LETTER TO MY FILIPINO LANGUAGE CLASS STUDENTS IN ANN ARBOR
(Abby, Colleen, Melissa, Mel, Jay, Jeremy, Jillian, Tom, Antoinette, Jason, Jerry, Clare and Marco)

Ampalaya.
The bitter melon is true to its name.
Bitter.

Bitter like stories from the homeland:
The twelve-year old girl who hanged herself
To escape poverty;
Two student activists,
Raped and tortured by the military.
Seven peasant workers massacred
At the hacienda picket line.

I wish the stories were not this bitter.
Perhaps I can rub them with salt,
Rinse them in water,
Squeeze the bitterness out,
The way many kababayans think
Forgetting is as simple
As taking the bitterness
Out of ampalaya.

Perhaps I could tell you stories
As sweet as leche flan
Or as succulent and crispy as lechon skin.
But sweet-succulent-crispy is not on the menu
In times of danger and deceit.

And yet, should you listen,
Even for a moment,
To these ampalaya stories of the homeland,
Then you will know that being Filipino
Is not about
Having the stomach
To eat the bitter melon.
Ampalaya.

Joi Barrios, BAYAN Women’s Desk (Bagong Alyansang Makabayan)
*This poem was read on November 10, 2007 at the Filipino Cultural Night at the University of Michigan Ann Arbor.