Poetika at Literatura

You Alone

2011-12-14T16:17:00.000-08:00

by Rolando A. Carbonell

You alone, beloved, can teach me to measure the memory of a song… No one knows to what ecstasy my heart will soar. The gentleness in your smile is enough to touch the tenderness in my heart. In the secret page of my life is written a story… never to be forgotten. For all the silent records this vessel holds contain the memory of you.

Come, then, beloved and sing with me the songs so sweet. Burn my soul with the magic jewel of your song that I may awaken form the darkness of this world to view the blossoming of the stars. And there is any power greater than love? Speak down beloved, speak. Give to me the essence of your love, and the slumbering poems in this dark universe will blazon anew; swelling like waves upon the blossom of a hungry shore.

Because you and I shall sing, heaven itself will quiver with a burst of song. And the morning will greet us with a glow to open the flowering of a new tune. No one else but you can still the throbbing, sobbing, murmuring voice within. No one. For you alone, can reach the silent stretches of my soul. You alone…

Without you, beloved, what joy will there be in a song? Without the embraces of your love—what use is the beauty of the morn? Without the promise of your kiss, what delight is there in the fragrance of a rose? Without you, my love, memory itself will lose the beauty of its touch…

Come then, my dear,

Like a flower,

Like a song,

Like a dream…

And I shall write the forgotten poems of many days you secretly left in my soil. In every line I shall scribble the many thoughts this soaring mind holds envelope the memory of your youth scattered by the winds.

You alone can make a miracle out of a song…

You alone can transform this poem into a prayer…

You alone can make me feel the breath of life again.

You alone

Order for Mask

2011-10-12T23:25:00.000-07:00

.by Virginia R. Moreno

An Ifugao Rice Harvest Mask

To this harlequinade

I wear black tight and fool’s cap

Billiken, make me three bright masks

For the three tasks in my life.

Three faces to wear

One after the other

For the three men in my life.

When my Brother comes

make me one opposite

If he is a devil, a saint

With a staff to his fork

And for his horns, a crown.

I hope for my contrast

To make nil

Our old resemblance to each other

and my twin will walk me out

Without a frown

Pretending I am another.

When my Father comes

Make me one so like

His child once eating his white bread in trance

Philomela before she was raped. I hope by likeness

To make him believe this is the same kind

The chaste face he made,

And my blind Lear will walk me out

Without a word

Fearing to peer behind.

If my lover comes,

Yes, when Seducer comes

Make for me the face

That will in color race

The carnival stars

And change in shape

Under his grasping hands.

Make it bloody

When he needs it white

Make it wicked in the dark

Let him find no old mark

Make it stone to his suave touch

This magician will walk me out

Newly loved.

Not knowing why my tantalizing face

Is strangely like the mangled parts of a face

He once wiped out.

Make me three masks.

The Tree

2011-10-04T19:23:00.000-07:00

By G. Burce Bunao

Fernando Amorsolo's "Banawe Rice Terraces"

The tree was very beautiful to me

When I was a boy,

I climbed for fruit or out of a branch of the tree

Made me a toy—

A top, for instance, that spun around carefree

And wound for joy

Until it toppled over and was dead.

No longer the boy,

I find the tree as beautiful though not

Just for a branch

Or a bunch of fruit but—more than that—for a bed

Or to fence the branch

In which I raise the beasts that fill the pot

In the many shapes

My simple commerce turns them to, like bread

Or fish or grapes,

To feed the brood, the little woman and me

There go the boys,

Go watch them, strong of limb, spread up the tree,

They pluck their toys

Out of its branches, as out of my childhood tree

I shaped my joys.

Pliant like the Bamboo

2011-09-21T18:24:00.000-07:00

by Ismael Mallari

"Bayanihan" by Joselito E. Barcelona

There is a story in Philippine folklore about a mango tree and a bamboo tree. Not being able to agree as to which was the stronger of the two, they called upon the wind to make the decision.

The wind blew hardest. The mango tree stood fast. It would not yield. It knew it was strong and sturdy. It would not sway. It was too proud. It was too sure of itself. But finally its root gave way, and it tumbled down.

The bamboo tree was wiser. It knew it was not as robust as the mango tree. And so every time the wind blew, it bent its head gracefully. It made loud protestations, but let the wind have its way. When finally the wind got tired of blowing, the bamboo tree still stood in all its beauty and grace.

The Filipino is like the bamboo tree. He knows that he is not strong enough, to withstand the onslaught of superior forces. And so he yields. He bends his head gracefully with many loud protestations.

And he has survived. The Spaniards came and dominated him for more than three hundred years. And, when the Spaniards left, the Filipinos still stood—only much richer in experience and culture.

The Americans took place of the Spaniards. They used more subtle means of winning over the Filipinos to their mode of living and thinking. The Filipinos embraced the American way of life more readily than the Spaniard’s vague promises hereafter.

Then the Japanese came like a storm, like a plague of locusts, like a pestilence—rude, relentless, cruel. The Filipino learned to bow his head low, to “cooperate” with the Japanese in their “holy mission of establishing the Co-Prosperity Sphere.” The Filipino had only hate and contempt for the Japanese, but he learned to smile sweetly at them and to thank them graciously for their “benevolence and magnanimity”.

And now that the Americans have come back and driven away the Japanese, those Filipinos who profited most from cooperating with the Japanese have been loudest in their protestations of innocence. Everything is as if the Japanese had never been in the Philippines.

For the Filipino would welcome any kind of life that the gods would offer him. That is why he is contented and happy and at peace. The sad plight of other people of the world is not his. To him, as to that ancient Oriental poet, the past is already a dream, and tomorrow is only a vision; but today, well-lived, makes every yesterday a dream of happiness, and tomorrow is a vision of hope.

This may give you the idea that the Filipino is a philosopher. Well he is. He has not evolved a body of philosophical doctrines. Much less has he put them down into a book, like Kant for example, or Santayana or Confucius. But he does have a philosophical outlook on life.

He has a saying that life is like a wheel. Sometimes it is up, sometimes it is down. The monsoon season comes, and he has to go undercover. But then the sun comes out again. The flowers bloom, and the birds sing in the trees. You cut off the branches of a tree, and, while the marks of the bolo* are still upon it, it begins to shoot forth-new branches—branches that are the promise of new color, new fragrance, and new life.

Everywhere about him is a lesson in patience and forbearance that he does not have to learn with difficulty. For the Filipino lives in a country on which the gods lavished their gifts aplenty. He does not have to worry about the morrow. Tomorrow will be only another day—no winter of discontent. Of he loses his possessions, there is the land and there is the sea, with all the riches that one can desire. There is plenty to spar—for friends, for neighbors and for everyone else.

No woner that the Filipino can afford to laugh. For the Filipino is endowed with saving grace of humor. This humor is earthly as befits one who has not indulged in deep contemplation. But it has enabled the Filipino to shrug his shoulders in times of adversity and say to himself “Bahala na”*.

The Filipino has often been accused of being indolent and of lacking initiative. And he has answered back* that no one can help being indolent and lacking in initiative who lives under the torrid sun which saps the vitality.

This seeming lack of vitality is, however, only one og his means of survival. He does not allow the world to be too much with him. Like the bamboo tree, he lets the winds of chance and circumstance blow all about him; and he is unperturbed and serene.

The Filipino, in fact, has a way of escaping from the rigorous problems of life. Most of his art is escapist in nature. His forefathers wallowed in the *moro-moro, the awit, and the kurido. They loved to identify themselves as gallant knights battling for the favors of fair ladies or the possession of hallowed place. And now he himself loves to be lost in the throes and modern romance and adventure.

His gallantry towards women—especially comely women—is a manifestation of his romantic turn of mind. Consequently, in no other place in Orient are women so respected, so adulated, and so pampered. For his women have enabled the Filipinos to look upon the vicissitudes of fortune as the bamboo tree regards the angry blasts of the blustering wind.

The Filipino is eminently suited to his romantic role. He is slender and wiry. He is nimble and graceful in his movements, his voice is soft, and h has the gift of language. In what other place in the world can you find a people who can carry on a fluent conversation in at least *three languages?

This gift is another means by which the Filipino as managed to survive. There is no insurmountable barrier between him and any of the people who have come to live with him—Spanish, American, and Japanese. The foreigners do not have learn his language. He easily manages to master theirs.

Verily, the Filipino is like the bamboo tree. In its grace, in its ability to adjust itself to the peculiar and inexplicable whims of fate, the bamboo tree is his expressive and symbolic national tree, it will have to be, not the molave or the narra, but the bamboo.

Footnotes:

*bolo - a Filipino sword, usually used in cutting bamboo and trees. During the Philippine-Spanish Revolution, Bolos are used by the Katipuneros to fight against the Spaniards.

*"Bahala na" - a Tagalog phrase which really means "Bathala na", (Bathala referring to god), which literally means "Just leave everything to God" or "God will provide"

*This phrase refers to Dr. Jose Rizal's defense on the colonial spaniard's accuse of the indolence of the Filipinos. It was published in La Solidaridad in Madrid. His essay written in Spanish was in English entitled "Indolence of the Filipinos"

*moro-moro - a play famous during the Spanish occupation in the Philippines. Its theme always depict the fight between a Christian and a Muslim who in the end, the Christian (being always depicted as the protagonists) wins the said fight.

*awit - a form of Filipino poetry very popular during the Spanish occupation in the Philippines. One best example is the "Florante at Laura" (Florante and Laura) by Francisco Baltazar

*kurido - a form of Filipino poetry very popular during the Spanish occupation in the Philippines. It comes from the word "corrido" in Spanish. One of the best known kurido is the story of "Ibong Adarna" (The Adarna Bird)

*three languages... - it refers to Spanish, English and Filipino languages. During the time that the author is writing this piece, it is notable that Filipinos are required to study these three languages.

Thanks my Lord

2011-09-14T19:20:00.000-07:00

by Godofredo Rivera

Thanks a million times, my Lord, for this patient little heart of mine that Thou gave me. It is my precious possession… my life.

When I first saw the bright star above, I built a ladder to reach the sky, to pick the flaming gem.

Too high. My ladder could reach only the crown of the mango tree.

On the composite shore the beckoning hands of a beautiful woman were flagging an irresistible signal. So I built a bridge to get across the water.

Too wide. My bridge reached only a few roads away. And as I looked after inland, way up, standing upon the crest of the mountain was the magnificent figure of a titan in a scarlet robe, casting abroad gold, perfumes and diamonds. And thousands of men, like thousands of snarling dogs, were fighting for the free luxuries scattered around. So I started to climb.

Too steep. My knees were not built for that savage pilgrimage.

And so I built myself a shed of green leaves at the edge of the brook. Days I filled my little heart with joy, watching the dancing rivulet. Nights I wrap my little heart in the gossamer of peace as I listen to the eloquent sermon of the kalaw.

Each night an augury. Each day a reality.

How wonderful is life.

Thanks a million times, my Lord.

Thanks.

Song of A City Dweller

2011-09-12T23:19:00.000-07:00

by. N.V.M. Gonzales

Clear as lovely crystal

Grey like doves

The waters of the lake

Have only silence for their voice;

So will my heart seek long for song,

So will my dreams be lost like ghosts;

Pale as lonely smoke

Four Sonnets

2011-09-02T23:15:00.000-07:00

By Toribia Mano

Love have known as birds have known their skies

In lush of spring and in the summer’s fall;

In a gray field of rain, a sun-drenched wall

I have watched petals fall, and new moons rise:

And this I have found that although I am wise

To all the ways of love, I know not all,

But like a child, still grope and heed the call

Of magic sunlight dancing in my eyes.

And love is this: sun that burns and sets,

A kingdom greater than a pile of gold,

Or a name written in fire of flag unfurled,

Or silver stars across vast orbits hurled.

And love is this, too: strength that one begets

By toil, fear, ecstasy the heart can hold

Each day I light my lamp for you

My flames of faith, of love, and anguished cry,

For burnished beauty which has held me by

In times of need; day yet bright, yet new

Against my eyes. And in each varied hue

Of light I see, I know that as I sigh

For colored wing or leaf that ere it fly,

Shall find you last with me among the few,

For even as all beauty must pass by

Or lamps like mine betrusted as they shine

Or life be dimed by death each was we got

This I have learned and this will always know:

You are close to me as earth to sky,

As root, not leaf, is closer to the vine.

III

I shall not tire you, no, never tire

To hear your laughter in my mind like song,

Feel in my heart your nearness, fierce and strong

As death on living flesh, as steel round fires,

As sunlight with a passionate desire

Burns leaf and flower, earth to crimson throng,

And leaves a splendour as he goes along

Of coins and laurels, music from a lyre.

No, never will I tire of you, My love.

Only a fear I have that with each thrill

Between your heart and eyes, between your lips

One day you’ll find as taste of sand, as drips

Of ice and barrenness of rocks. Then, Love,

All sunlight will be dark, all music still.

If you have drunk of love and found it sparse

Of bitterness of sweetness on your tongue,

If thunder you have sought but knew no wars

Because your spirit is no longer young,

Be wise, Love is sun that burns the reddest rose,

That brings the fondest lover to his grave,

And makes of men and women neither friend nor foes

But lovers all, each to his king and slave.

Thus passion will be neither here or there

But in moment held articulate

Between a lover and his love in any place.

You will not walk in sorrow nor despair.

Unknown you’ll find me in your darkest hate

Tearing your heart with pain and crying in your face.

You Ask Me How Much I Love You

2011-08-31T19:03:00.000-07:00

by Benito F. Reyes

You ask me how much I love you

Ah, lovely inquisitive lips!

You would want to fathom the ocean

And scale the infinite blue sky above us.

Shall I count the sands on the seashore,

Or pick the numberless stars of heaven

Like some sweet woodland blossoms?

Ask then the bold eagle of the air

If he could soar the ends of the distance,

Or the worm of the ground if it could crawl

Down to the very core of earth.

And you ask me how much I love you,

Ah, lovely inquisitive lips!

You would want to fathom the ocean

And scale the infinite blue sky above us.

Read! Read the answer in my eyes

And in the quiverless muteness of my lips...

For there are things that are voiceless

And would be told only in the silence!

Like the Molave

2011-08-11T00:57:00.000-07:00

ni R. Zulueta da Costa

Not yet, Rizal, not yet. Sleep not in peace;
There are a thousand waters to be spanned;
There are a thousand mountains to be crossed;
There are a thousand crosses to be borne,
Our shoulders are not strong; our sinews are
Grown flaccid with dependence, smug with ease
Under another's wing.

Rest not in peace;
Not yet, Rizal, not yet. The land has need
Of young blood and, what younger than your own,
Forever spilled in the great name of freedom,
Forever oblate on the altar of
The free?

Not you alone, Rizal

O souls
And spirits of the martyred brave, arise!
Arise and scour the land! Shed once again
Your willing blood! Infuse the vibrant red
Into our thin, anemic veins; until
We pick up your Promethean tools and, strong,
Out of the depthless matrix of your faith
In us, and on the silent cliffs of freedom,
We carve for all the time your marmoreal dream!
Until your people, seeing, are become
Like the molave, firm, resilient, staunch,
Rising on the hillside unafraid,
Strong in its own fibre; yes, like the molave!

We, the Filipinos of today, are soft,
easy going, parasitic, frivolous
Inconstant, indolent, inefficient.
Would you have me sugarcoat you?
I would be happier to shower praise upon
my countrymen... but let us be realists...
let us strip ourselves...
Youth of the land, you are a bitter pill to swallow.
This is a testament of youth borne on the four pacific winds;
This is a parable of seed four ways sown in stone;
This is a chip not only on the President's shoulder,
The nation of our fathers shivers with long longing expectation
Shall we, sons and daughters, brother youths of the land,
Walk up now and forever knock the flirting chip off?
Or will the nation of our fathers be forever and forever
Lighting candles in the wind?

They say the molave is extinct,
But they are blind or will not see.
Stand on the span of any river, and lo!
Relentlessly to and fro, cross and recross, molave!

Yes, molave strides roads into the darkest core!
Yes, molave builds seven thousand bridges in blood!

Bagumbayan planted the final seed.
Balintawak nurtured the primal green

Molave, uprooted and choked, will not succumb.
Molave presses on and will not be detained.

Let Spain speak.
Let American speak.

The Dreamer's Hymn

2011-03-15T19:25:00.000-07:00

by J.m. Benavidez-Estoque

To journey to a world of uncertainty

Wilderness of life yet determined to see

Whose stars are but darkness in the mists

Dreaming that heavens someday be reached

Soaring ‘neath the clouds yet with shattered wings!

Dreaming that someday future shall be bright,

Hoping that for the morrow, the sun shall rise!

Yearning for a dream of falsehoods than right,

A crazy self let drowned from the illusion of desires…

Whose ends are but impossible to achieve!

Pity a soul… with a shattered dreams!

Yet in mind and heart still believing to see:

Longing for a goal whose mind indistinct…

Of a dream of whether uncertain to achieve?

Yearning for a journey of a thousand miles…

Yet in heart’s a doubt where should it begin?

Oh Heavens… let me fly, grant me thy wings!

That for the morrow shall be… as bright to see:

Whose soul soaring in the stormy seas…

Of a world so illusioned farther reality!

Oh let it flare, the burning flames of my soul…

Whose passions a blazing, a gleaming fire!

Sparking in the midst of a darkest night,

Awaiting for the dawn where the sun shall rise!

Be provoked ye, oh my soul, whose spirit is dying!

Be proud like a lion enslaved struggling to be free…

Oh! From this hopes like a dying leaves

Like a tree praying waiting for the spring!

And when the night still falls like a mind so cloudy…

Till the days you live, tears of helplessness still rolling…

In heart and mind shall you must never forget,

That behind the darkest clouds there’s this sun still shining!

An Advice From Him Who Was Once Dead

2011-02-08T21:36:00.000-08:00

J.K. Samson

Esp aña y Filipinas
by Juan Luna

An advice from him who was once dead:

Listen, mortals, lest you be misled.

I have come to address all your woe

And share to you all things you must know.

Love and let love but do not forget

To use your reason, lest you regret.

For some things are harder to let go

Like sin, love and visions of tom'row.

Express yourself, your love, your passion

But heed in making your decision.

Be prudent lest your heart be wounded

For both hate and love here descended.

Hypocrite you may be calling me

Or even more; self-righteous, maybe.

But I speak, in experience I base

I've felt what you feel in many ways.

Numb I may be in your weary eyes.

A man who's pretending to be wise.

But my life so far, is fine you see.

For these words were intended for me.

Ako ang Daigdig I am The World

2011-02-03T19:01:00.000-08:00

ni Alejandro G. Abadilla

"Pagsanjan Falls" by Fernando Amorsolo

Ako I

Ang daigdig Am the World

Ako I

Ang tula Am the Poetry

Ako ang daigdig I am the World

Ang tula the Poetry

Ako ang daigdig I am the World

Na tula of Poetry

Ang tula The Poetry

Ng daigdig of the World

Ako I

Ang walang maliw na ako The Never-ending Me

Ang walang kamatayang ako The Undying Me

Ang tula ng daigdig The Poetry of the World

Ako I

Ang daigdig ng tula The World of Poetry

Ako I

Ang tula ng daigdig The Poetry of the World

Ako I

Ang malayang ako The Freeborn Me

Matapat sa sarili Honest to Myself

Sa aking daigdig To my Own World

ng tula Of Poetry

Ako I

Ang tula Am the Poetry

Sa daigdig To the World

Ako I

Ang daigdig Am the World

Ng tula Of Poetry

Ako I

III

Ako I

Ang damdaming The Passionately

Malaya Free

Ako ang buhay I am the Life

Na walang hanggan That is Eternal

Ako I

Ang damdamin The emotion

Ang larawan The reflection

Ang buhay The life

Damdamin Emotion

Larawan Reflection

Buhay Life

Tula Poetry

Ako I

Ang daigdig The World

Sa tula In Poetry

Ako I

Ang tula The Poetry

Sa daigdig In the World

Ako I

Ang tula Am the Poetry

Daigdig World

Tula Poetry

ako I

'Till There was Someone, A Special Like You

2011-01-28T21:44:00.000-08:00

by John Marc Benavidez Estoque

Fernando Amorsolo

Gloomy are the stars in endless summer nights…

Obscure ever this heart wishing the sky was bright!

Indistinct yonder the songs those singing birds bring…

Whose ears couldn’t listen but to whispers of the wind!

But now here you are; gift from heaven’s delight…

There’s nothing to fear since you’re here at my side.

Gone are those nights singing dolorous songs

Of a wild torn heart waiting for a beautiful morn!

Gone are those days whose soul a-searching…

That from the glimpse of thy face; there shall I find heaven a-smiling!

Never be the stars to ever gloom again

That shall sparkle to day till the morrow’s end.

Never shall be this heart be lonely beneath the moon

Now that you’re here mending pieces of my late heart’s wound!

Never be the sonnets of a poet to run dry again

That from thy heart shall cast melodious madrigals it sings!

‘Till there was someone, a special like you…

Who added years to my years and joys to my joys!

Ang Pagbabalik/ The Homecoming

2010-11-22T17:14:00.000-08:00

ni Jose Corazon de Jesus

Babahagya ko nang sa noo nahagkan,

Sa mata ko’y luha ang nangag-unahan,

Isang panyong puti ang ikinakaway

Nang siya’y iwan ko sa tabi ng hagdan!

Sa gayong kalungkot na paghihiwalay,

Nalulumbay ako’t siya’y nalulumbay!

Nang sa tarangkahan ako’y makabagtas,

Pasigaw ang sabing “Umuwi ka agad,”

Ang sagot ko’y “Oo, hindi magluluwat!”

Nakangiti ako, luha’y nalalaglag!

At ako’y nagtuloy, tinunton ang landas,

Na kabyak ang puso’t naiwan ang kabyak…

Lubog na ang Araw, kalat na ang dilim

At ang Buwan nama’y ibig nang magningning;

Nakaurasyon na noong aking datnin

Ang pinagsadya kong malayong lupain;

K’wagong nasa kubo’t may ibong itim

Ang nagsisalubong sa aking pagdatin!

Sa pinto ng nar’ong tahana’y kumatok,

Ako’y pinatuloy ng magandang loob;

Kumain ng konti, natulog sa lungkot

Na ang puso’y tila ayaw nang tumibok;

Ang kawikaan ko, pusong naglalagot,

Tumigil kung ako’y talaga nang tulog!

Nang kinabukasang magawak ang dilim,

Araw’y namintanang mata’y nagniningning,

Sinimulan ko na ang dapat kong gawin:

Ako’y nag-araro, naglinang, nagtanim,

Nang magdi-Disyembre, tanim sa kaingin,

Ay ginpas ko na’t sa irog dadalhin!

At umuwi akong taglay ko ang lahat,

Mga bungang kahoy at sansakong bigas,

Bulaklak ng damo sa gilid ng landas

Ay sinisinop ko’t panghandog sa liyag,

Nang ako’y umalis siya’y uimiiyak,

Oh! Ngayon marahil siya’y magagalak!

At ako’y nagtulin halos lakad-takbo!

Sa may dakong ami’y mayroon pang musiko,

Ang aming tahana’y masayang totoo

At ang panauhin ay nagkakagulo!

“Salamat sa Diyos!” ang nabigkas ko,

“Nalalaman nila na darating ako!”

Ngunit, Oh! Tadhana! Pinto nang mabuksan,

Ako’y napapikit sa aking namasdan!

Apat na kandila ang nangagbabantay,

Sa paligid-ligid ng irog kong bangkay,

Mukhang nakangiti at nang aking hagkan

Ang parang sinabi’y… “Paalam! Paalam!”

Kay Inang Bayan

2010-09-05T02:36:00.000-07:00

Jm Benavidez Estoque

Ang pagtahak sa mundong walang katiyakan...

Ang paglayag sa bagsik ng karagatang...

ni bitui'y walang makitang tanglaw!

Pagnasang sa kalangita'y makalipad

... makalipad ng kahit bali-bali na'ng pakpak!

Bigong kaluluwang s'yang kahabaghabag

sa mga bitui'y nakatulala kahit walang ninitang pag-asa!

Nangarap balang araw magiging dakila...

Nangarap na balang araw na sa mga mata n'ya'y aahon at sisikat muli ang umaga!

Nangarap ng dakilang mga bagay na mas malayo pa sa katotohanan...

Sa sarili'y nagkumbinsing pakalunod sa ilusyon ng mga pangarap,

Sa ilusyon ng mga hangaring imposibleng matahak!

Kaluluwang kahabaghabag... pusong nadudurog

Nguni't sa isipa't puso'y pilit pa ring buhayin ang imposibleng pangarap!

Nangarap ng dakilang bagay na hindi man tiyak

Kung kayang abutin...

Nangarap ng pagkataastaas na hindi naman tanto

Kung ano ang simulain...

Hanggang pangarap na lang ba at wala nang gagawin?

Mabigat na buntong hingang buhat sa dibdib,

namimighating puso, damdaming naninikip!

Mga mata'y hayu't sapul sa malayo't malalim ang tingin

habang sa pisngi'y nangabasag na luhang nangingilid!

II.

Oh ako'y ilipad mo't bigyan mo ng pakpak!

Nais kong sumisid sa kariktan ng pangarap!

Sa mundong ilusyong malayo pa sa bituin...

Sa daigdig ng panagimpang malayong marating!

Oh ako'y iyong pag-alabin... itong apoy sa'king budhi...

Ang damdaming nagpupumiglas, nangarap na ang mga adhika'y mararating din!

Ningas ay pahintulutan mo sanang mag-alab at h'wag manlamig...

at gawing tanglaw hanggang sa bagong umagang parating!

Magngitngit ka, Oh kaluluwang nasisiraan na ng loob!

Magpumiglas kang parang dakilang leong sa kalayaa'y pinagkait...

Nitong pag-asang sa damdamin ma'y nangabasag na salamin...

Ningas ng talino't tapang mo'y iyong pag-alabin!

Kung sa gabing walang katiyakan, walang katahimikan, nagugulong isipan...

Kung sa gabing pagtulog mo'y luha ng kawalang pag-asa'y iyong kumot at unan...

Hayaan mo at h'wag kalimutang may umagang paparating

at ang bukang liwayway... balang araw ay sisikat din!

III.

Wala na ngang s'yang ligaya'ng sa mukha'y makapipinta...

liban na sa ang makita'y ngiti sa'yong mga mata!

Ni hinagpis at luhang nangapawi na't s'yang nawala...

Na sa'yong pagdusa'y ninitang bagong umaga!

Wala na ngang s'yang bagay ang sa puso'y makagagaan...

na kung ika'y malasin ko'y ligaya'ng nararamdaman

Sa bigat ng 'yong pasani'y ano't siyang pagkagaan...

Sa sandaling makikita na kitang 'di na mahihirapan!

Wala na nga ang s'yang sa puso'y makapagbibigay galak!

na kung sa mga luha mo'y tuluyan nang nanga-alpas...

Wala nang gabing mapanglaw ni ang pagdusa't pagdalita

Kundi ang bukang liwayway na s'yang puno ng pag-asa!

Oh Pilipinas, bayan ko! Lupang sinilangan...

Aanhin pa nga'ng mga luha'ng ngayo'y nagbabatis sa'king mga mata

ni damdamin sa puso kong kaybigat at nagbabata?

Pagdusang sa'yo'y nakalagak, sa iyo nakalaan...

Wala na ngang siyang bagay higit na mas dadakila

sa kung sa sariling dugo, pawis at aking paghihirap

na sa abang bayan't sinta ko'y aking pag-aalayan

Nang sa dumating ang araw na makitang muli...

ang 'yong mga ngiting muling kikislap,

at ang pagdating ng isang bago't mapayapang umaga!

"Himig ng Kahapon"/ Yesterday's Melody

2010-08-23T02:18:00.000-07:00

Jm Benavidez Estoque

Sa naglalarong himig ng aking baliktanaw

naririnig ng puso ko'y buhay kabataan.

Sa takipsilim ma'y pilit hipan ng anahaw,

Simoy ng dapithapo'y 'di na mababalikan!

Sa pagpilit lumipad ng naglalarong dahon...

kasabay ng pagkaway ng natatanging puno,

Pintig ng damdamin ko'y pilit nakikiahon...

sa aking ligaya't hinagpis ng kahapon!

Sa bulaklak ng karanasang sa'ki'y sumilong,

kapag nakaraan na'y nalalasap ang tinik...

Sa aliparong diwa'y hinahanap ang sambong...

umaasang lunas sa damdaming batikbatik!

Sa diwang nagniningning sa'king damdamin,

masasayang alaala't masasayang nakaraan...

Rosas at tinik siyang nahahagkan

ng pusong lumilipad sa kalangitan!

Mga karanasan sa lakbay aral ng buhay,

bigay sa'ki'y ningning, kariktan at panglaw...

hanggang libinga'y tapat mamamahay

bawat ngiti't hinayang sa'ki'y dumalaw!

Gone are the music of the yesterday's melody...

where a heart listens to the youth's cheerfulness!

In these dreamy setting sun yearning for a returning breeze,
whose scents are meant to be gone forever!

In the rustling of leaves along the breathing wind,

along with the trees dancing on the meadows...

Rythms of this heart swaying with melody

... of yesterday's bliss, joy, and pain!

On the flower of memories melting with mine eyes...

When looking on distant past, doleful thorns it brings!

On my sentimental mind yearning for a cure

yearning for remedies of yesterday's regrets!

Memories whose sparkling in this tearful affections,

Yearning for the old youth days of joys and peace!

Where now blossoms and thorns a hand could reach

of emotions flying in the midst of the sky!

Oh yesterday's melody, Sweet passing days

Joys and delights to me you give

that in this present times I cover with sorrow...

of a road of life that is once taken!

*The image shown above is a painting by Felix Martinez, a Filipino-Spanish Painter aroung 19th Century.

"OFW: The Overseas Filipino Workers"

2010-06-08T23:16:00.000-07:00

Anonymous*

To never have qualifications recognised
To suffer racism
To be criticised

To be given orders by someone who refuses to use your name
To play by their rules but never win at their game .
To have your life placed in danger in other peoples conflicts and wars
THATS what the OFW is for!

To do the jobs all others refuse
To smile remain silent never speak the truth
To give to others until you have no more
Thats what the Filipino worker is for!

To continue when your heart is in pain
To be paid the lowest wage and never complain
To clean tables and scrub floors
Thats what the Filipino worker is for!

To be kept as a domestic slave and never be free
To be constantly stripped of your dignity
To be belittled until you cant take it anymore
thats what the Filipino worker is for!

*note: the selected painting displayed above is one of Felix Resurreccion Hidalgo's (a Hispanic-Filipino Painter) painting entitled in english, "Laguna Estigia/ River Styx”.

Malayo Pa ang Umaga/ The Morn is Yet so Far!

2010-05-27T20:15:00.000-07:00

Reynaldo Valera Guardiano

Malayo pa ang umaga,
kahit sa dilim... naghihintay pa rin!
...umaasang bukas ay may liwanang
sa aking buhay umaga ko'y aking hinihintay.

Sadya kayang ang buhay sa mundo
ay kay pait, walang kasing lupit
kailan kaya ako'y 'di na luluha?
at ang aking pangarap...
ay unti-unting matutupad!

Malayo pa ang umaga,
'di matanaw ang pag-asa
hanggang kailan matitiis ang paghihirap ko?
at sa dilim hinahanap
ang pag-asa na walang landas...

Kailan ba darating ang bukas para sa'kin?
Malayo pa ang umaga.

The Morn is yet so far...

Even in darkness, somberly awaiting!

... In the midst of the morrow's coming, hoping for the light,

Here in my life, yearning for the fresh new dawn!

Life it is? ...in this world a worthwhile,

Full of bitterness, Thorns a scourging!

Time whence to be, that tears shall roll no more?

And these pieces dreams...

Little by little be achieved!

Oh, The Morning's light is yet so far!

A glimpse of hope could find none.

How long can I withstand these sorrows?

And from these darkness

yearning for the hope which path has none!

Whence would be a morrow's coming?

The morn is yet so far!

*note: the selected painting displayed above is one of Felix Resurreccion Hidalgo's (a Hispanic-Filipino Painter) painting entitled in english, "The Christian virgins exposed to the populace.

*note: the following piece is but a popular sentimental song composed by the renowned "Rey Valera". The following english translation is therefore an adaptation created by the owner and maker of this site. All copyright respectively goes to their respective owners. To listen for the music of the following Filipino lyrics, you may click here.

“Talindaw”: A Filipino Boat/ Rowing Song

2010-02-04T19:59:00.000-08:00

Jm Benavidez Estoque

Nang ako’y namangka sa dalampasigan…
na batis ng luha’t ng abang pangarap;
Mag-isa’t kay lumbay sa lilim ng ulap…
Puso’y yaring agnas nitong kalungkutan!

Mata’y nangapako sa dakong pampang
na nangangakubli sa kanyang pagtangis!
Ligaya’y balaraw at tungkos ng hapis…
labis nagdaramdam pusong namighati!

Hayo’t gaod dito sa’king salamisim–
sa diwa’y naglakbay sa agos ng tubig…
sa punyal ng pusong nagdurugo’t kay tinik…
ng tulaing damdaming wari’y nagdidilim!

Hayo’t gaod dito sa’king pag-iisa…
sa lilim ng b’wan na walang ‘sing gimbal!
– Nanlulumong labis sa ‘lirang pagsinta…
Na sa pagkaragka’y tila nawala na!

Oh here am I again, soaring the seashore

whose tears are its stream… of a song long that had been gone!

Alone so dreary and melancholic… beneath the clouds

Whose heart a decaying thorns of sorrow and pains!

Mine eyes ever glued to the banks…

Whose deep in obscurities of laments and weeping!

Whose joy’s are daggers of downhearted

Heavily resentful this heart in grief!

Sail ho! Sail ho! …To this retrospection

~ whose mind a journey in these dolorous waters!

~whose heart like a river flowing bleeding in thorns

A songs so forlorn whose a vast darkening clouds!

Sail ho! Sail ho! In this isolated wanderings

Beneath the moonlight so dark and dreary!

~ Heavily sighs to the long lost lover

That shall forever be lost in my life forever!

*note: The background image used is taken from Oscar Navarro's "Twilight through the Trees" depicting a Romantic scene in the Philippines near the Dalampasigan (seashore/ riverside)

Kundiman 2/ Filipino Love Song 2

2010-01-18T00:06:00.000-08:00

Jm Benavidez Estoque

I.
Wala na ngang s’yang ligaya’ng sa mukha’y makapipinta…
Liban na sa ang makita’y ngiti sa’yong mga mata!
… ni hinagpis at luha mo’y nangapawi’t s’yang nawala
…na sa’yong pagdusa’t hirap; ninitang bagong umaga!

II.
Wala ngang s’yang bagay ang sa puso’y makagagaan
…na kung ika’y malasin ko’y ligaya’ng mararamdaman.
Sa bigat ng ‘yong pasani’y ano’t pagkagaan!
…sa sandaling makita kang ‘di ka na nahihirapan.

III.
Wala na ngang s’yang sa puso’y makapagbibigay galak!
…na kung sa mga luha mo ay nagsipawi nang bigla–
Wala nang gabing mapanglaw… ni pagdusa’t pagdalita
Kundi ang bukang liwayway na s’yang puno ng pag-asa!

IV.
Oh Pilipinas, bayan ko! Lupang aking sinilangan…
Aanhin pa’ng mga luhang s’yang nagbabatis sa mata
…ni ang damdamin sa pusong kaybigat at nagbabata?!
P’gdusang sa’yo’y nakalagak… kung sa’ki’y tila salat pa…

V.
Wala na ngang siyang bagay higit na mas dadakila
…sa kung ang sariling dugo, pawis, ... at s’yang paghihirap!
Na sa abang s’yang sinta ko’t ang s’yang aking pag-alayan
…nang ngiti mo’y ninita kong… muling kikislap sa t’wina!

I.
There’s no other delight shall this soul be exalted
Than to see from thy lips your beautiful smile!
… whose tears and heavy sighs be lost and gone
…whose from distress and grievance of yours, shall I see a morning’s delight

II.
There’s no other delight shall this heart be at ease
…whose through looking with your eyes, heavenly bliss shall I find!
That even from this grave yoke cursed unto my soul, Oh how light it was!
…oh times when I see from thy self, at ease and with no harm.

III.
There’s no other delight shall this heart would ever find joy
… that form the tearful eyes be wiped and consoled!
No more mournful nights… nor pain nor sufferings
…but a new bright dawn rising from your arms!

IV.
Oh Philippines, my beloved land! Land of my nativity! Of my birth! Of my Beginnings!
…What’s the use of these mournful tears ever rolling from this face?
Even this loneliness and pain that again I am experiencing…
If they are for cause… and again and again… I shall always offer!

V.
Oh really there’s no other thing as great! As honourable!
Than from this very blood, vapour …and all sufferings and pain
Nothing but to offer all… for this oppressed mother so beloved…
To see one day that from your eyes that suffered for so long
… shall rise again in the midst of the new bright dawn!

*note: The Following image that is seen above and used for this article was exclusively one of the masterpiece of a Filipino painter named Fernando Amorsolo. For a gallery of some of his another works of art, you may visit this site.

Payo sa Bumabasa ng Tula

2010-01-10T02:18:00.000-08:00

Rolando Tinio

Hindi nalalayo
Sa pagpangos ng mangga
Ang Pagbasa ng Tula.

Amuyin, sapulin sa kamay
Ipalasap sa palad
Ang init at kinis ng balat,

Saka hubarin ang dilaw na katad
Na minsan man itim na pekas,
Parang matang ibig mangusap.

Huwag na huwag ngangatain.
Tubo at mangga’y magkaibang sining.

Tandaang laman ay hindi parang laman,
Humihingi ng ingat, pagmamahal.
Turuan ang ngiping dumagan
Nang hindi mag-iiwan ng sugat.
Unti-untiin ang pagsisiwalat
Sa buto…

Na namimintog, lumalapad–
Kutsilyong walang talas,
Pinatuyong sinag ng araw,
Usok-at-ulang nagsabato,
Garing na ‘di pa nakakatam,
Siksik na taguan ng yabong,
Lilim, at tatal.

Huwag mithiin asetikong buto,
Ang puting ermitanyo,
Bago mapagdaanan ang mga ehersisyong karnal.
Bayaang maganap
Tamis, pait, saklap
Sa isang panlasang wagas

Huwag kainipan ang labo
Ng Pisnging humuhulas.

Pagkatapos na makipagtapatan
Sa mga istasyon ng pagkalaman,
Kusang liliwanag ang sagradong buto–
Na ‘sim bigat ng katotohanan,
‘Sing gaan ng pangarap at kalawakan!

*note: The Following image that is seen above and used for this article was exclusively one of the masterpiece of a Filipino painter named Fernando Amorsolo. For a gallery of some of his another works of art, you may visit this site.

Soneto de Invierno/ Winter Sonnet

2009-12-13T02:33:00.000-08:00

Jm Benavidez Estoque

Unto the blue skies t’was so lovely and more temperate

… bounded by fields of green whose a vast whitening!

Here was my heart so cold unchaste,

… yearning for the passion of deep fervor blaze.

Leaves ever falling, rustling… weeping unto the misty trees
… whose branches of her, Oh, those sweet embraces she reminds!
And… for this December, whose skies are gold,
… Painful and weeping was my heart and soul!

And from whence this Christmas lies?

… but to the stories untold.

… of the birth of the one… the delight of Heavens!

… Whose warmth affections that bleeds, host.

For so long as my heart would dictate,
‘Shall I never ever forget thee… !

*Note: The Painting (above) that is used for this Poetry is an art created by Juan Luna, A Filipino Painter during the Spanish Era in the Philippines

Land of Bondage, Land of the Free (Oratorical Piece)

2009-11-19T17:45:00.000-08:00

Raul S. Manglapus

Once upon a time, the *tao owned a piece of land. It was all he owned. But he cherished it, for it gave him three things, having which, he was content: life, first of all, and liberty, and happiness.

Then one day the Spaniard came and commanded him to pay tribute to the crown of Spain. The tao paid tribute. And he was silent — he was certain that he was still the master of his land.

The Spaniard became rich. But with riches, evil entered into him and he came to the tao a second time. He read to the tao a formidable document saying: “According to this decreto real, which unfortunately you cannot read, this that you have been paying me is not tribute but rent, for the land is not yours but mine.”The tao paid tribute and said nothing … He ceased to be a freeman. He became a serf. Still the tao held his peace. The rent went up and up. The tao starved.

And this time at last he spoke. Not in words, but with that rustic instrument with which he cleared the land once his own — the *bolo. He transformed it from an instrument of tillage to an instrument of death, and with it drove away the stranger. Then he returned to his field saying: “Now indeed shall I again be master of this land, once my own, but stolen from me by the trickery of quicker wits than mine.”

But the tao was wrong. For the land had another master. This time not a stranger, but his own countryman grown rich. The tao had a new name, kasama, which to us means "partner", but which to the tao meant still a slave, for once more he suffered from his countrymen the same things he had suffered from the stranger: the rents, the usury, and all the rest of it.

Yes, the tao returned to his field thinking that he was free. But he soon discovered that he was still a prisoner. His prison, a two-room shack, rent by every wind, without any comforts, except that three families have there the privilege to starve. The tao’s home has become his very prison. Its doors, if you can call them such, are wide open. It is a prison nonetheless. For the tao is bound to it, not with chains of steel, but with a stronger chain — his honor. To this day, the tao remains a slave, a prisoner of the usurer.

No wonder, then that tao, being a slave, has acquired the habits of a slave! No wonder that after three centuries in chains, without freedom, without hope, he should lose the erect and fearless posture of the freeman, and become the bent, misshapen, indolent, vicious, pitiful thing that he is! Who dares accuse him, who dares rise up in judgement against this man, reduced to this sub-human level by three centuries of oppression. The tao does not come here tonight to be judged — but to judge! Hear then his accusation and his sentence:

I indict the Spanish encomendero for inventing taxes impossible to bear!

I indict the usurer for saddling me with debts impossible to pay!

I indict the irresponsible radical leaders who undermine, with insidious eloquence, the confidence of my kind in our government.

You accuse me of not supporting my family. Free me from bondage, and I shall prove you false!

You accuse me of ignorance. But I am ignorant because my master finds it profitable to keep me ignorant. Free me from bondage, and I shall prove you false!

You accuse me of indolence. But I am indolent not because I have no will, but because I have no hope. Why should I labor, if all the fruits of my labor go to pay an unpayable debt. Free me from bondage, and I shall prove you false!

Give me land. Land to own. Land unbeholden to any tyrant. Land that will be free. Give me land for I am starving. Give me land that my children may not die. Sell it to me, sell it to me at a fair price, as one freeman sells to another and not as a usurer sells to a slave. I am poor, but I will pay it! I will work, work until I fall from weariness for my privilege, for my inalienable right to be free!

BUT IF YOU WILL NOT GRANT ME THIS … If you will not grant me this last request, this ultimate demand, then build a wall around your home … build it high! … build it strong! Place a sentry on every parapet! … for I who have been silent these three hundred years will come in the night when you are feasting, with my cry and my bolo at your door. And may God have mercy on your soul!

*Footnote:

Tao - Filipino Term for "Man"

Bolo - A Native Filipino Sword

Ang Ningning at Ang Liwanag/ The Lustre and The Light (Philosophical Essay)

2009-09-27T19:57:00.000-07:00

Emilio Jacinto 1875 - 1899

Ang Ningning ay nakasisilaw at nakasisira sa paningin!

---Things that shines are blinding and harmful to the eyes!

Ang liwanag ay kinakailangan ng mata, upang mapagwari ang buong katunayan ng mga bagay-bagay.

---But the Light is a necessity to the eyes, inorder for us to perceive the reality of things!

Ang bubog kung tinatamaan ng nag-aapoy na sikat ng araw ay nagniningning, ngunit sumusugat sa kamay ng nagaganyak na dumampot.

---Whence if the broken piece of glass ever stricken by the radiance of the sunlight, It will shine but prove scathing when touched by one who are tempted by its mischieving sparkles!

Ang ningning ay nakakapandaraya!

---Lustres are mischievous!

Ating hanapin ang Liwanag, tayo'y huwag mabighani sa ningning. Sa katunayan ng masamang kaugalian; nagdaraan ang isang karuwahen maningning na hinihila ng kabayong matulin. Tayo’y magpupugay at ang isasaloob ay mahal na tao na nakalulan. Datapuuwa’y marahil naman isang magnanakaw, marahil sa ilalim ng kaniyang ipinatatanghal na kamahalan at mga hiyas na tinataglay ay nagtatago ng pusong sukaban!

---We need to quest for the Light, and not be lured by the Sparks! In the reality of this ill attitude; a couch for example who in all fervor being dressed with all radiance and splendour and pulled by shining horses... the very action of us is to pay tribute and shall love the one aboard! Datapuwa'y The one inside was a mischievous thief, hiding under his alluring sparkles! Whereas underneath the gold, the fame, the power it shows, are the greedy heart that it hides!

Nagdaraan ang isang maralita na nagkakanghihirap sa pinapasan. Tayo’y mapapangiti at isasaloob: "Saan niya ninakaw?" Datapwa’y Maliwanag nating makikita sa pawis ng kaniyang noo at sa hapo ng kaniyang katawan na siya’y nabubuhay sa sipag at kapagalang tunay!

---On the other hand; a poor man passed. A poor man who, in all his effort, carried a very heavy load! We make scornful smiles and laughs, "Where did he steal that heavy thing he is carrying?" Datapwa'y In the light beyond what we see, a heavy perspiration flowing from his face and the deep exhaustion of his body shall ever tell to us... that this man had lived with all his effort and perseverance!

Ay! Sa atin ngang ugali ay lubhang nangapit sa pagsamba sa ningning at pagtakwil sa liwanag.

---Ah... Deep in our selves is an attitude of worshipping things that sparks and rejects the true light!

Ito na nga ang dahilang isa pa na kung kaya ang tao at ang mga bayan ay namumuhay sa hinagpis at dalita!

---This is maybe the very reason why people and every nation are living in agony and pain...

Ito na nga ang dahilan na kung kaya ang mga loob ay inaakay na kapalaluan at ng kasakiman ay nagpupumilit na lumitaw na maningning, lalung lalo na nga ang mga Hari at mga Pinuno na pinagkakatiwalaan ng sa ikagiginhawa ng kanilang mga kampon, ay walang ibang nasa kundi ang mamalagi sa kapangyarihan sukdang ikainis at ikamatay ng Bayan na nagbigay sa kanila ng kapangyarihang ito.

---This is maybe the very reason why persons who are embraced by conceit and greediness are being encouraged to stand shining amidst of others, especially those who are "rulers" and "kings", whom we confide our trust for the common good, have desired nothing but to stay in power. Thing that would plant a seed of hate to everybody and would cause a destruction to one's nation!

Tayo’y mapagsampalataya sa ningning, huwag nating pagtakahang ang ibig mabuhay sa dugo ng ating mga ugat ay magbalatkayong maningning!

---People love to worship Lustres! We need not to ask why in our veins also lies this mischievous sparks!

Ay! Kung ating dinudulugan at hinahayinan ng puspos ng galang ay ang maliwanag at magandang asal at matapat na loob, ang kahit sino ay walang magpapaningning pagkat hindi natin pahahalagahan, at ang mga isip at akalang anupaman ay hindi hihiwalay sa maliwanag na banal na landas ng katuwiran.

---Ah... if only we could let to this tribute and reverence... to the Light of Truth, Values and Honesty; Anyone... shall never ever shed its sparks for we will not recognize it nor our opened minds shall never leave this Light of Reason.

Ang kaliluhan at ang katampalasan ay humahanap ng ningning upang huwag mapagmalas ng mga matang tumatanghal ang kanilang kapangitan; nguni’t ang kagalingan at ang pag-ibig na dalisay ay hubad, mahinhin at maliwanag na napatatanaw sa paningin.

---Treachery and traitorousness seek the sparks in order for our eyes be blinded by their deformity. But the greatness of the heart and the Love that is honest such as the real Light is very honest are naked, sweet, and beneficial for the eyes.

Ang lumipas na pinanginoon ng Tagalog ay labis na nagpapatunay ng katotohanan nito.

---Those old free beautiful days of us, Filipinos,can prove to all of this.

Mapalad ang araw ng liwanag!

---Blessed is the Sun of Light!

Ay! Ang anak ng bayan, ang kapatid ko, ay matututo kaya na kumuhang halimbawa at lakas sa pinagdaanang mga hirap at binatang kaapihan?

---Ah... Sons and daughters of this onced brave land, my brethrens. When will you learn to get enough strength and example from the agonies and pains that longed you've been suffering?!

Prayers of an Old Tree

2009-09-19T09:22:00.000-07:00

Jm Benavidez Estoque

Oh! Wearied now was my body laid into rest...
Beneath the benevolent skies... slept into peace,
Whose my Mind and my Heart wandered to her nests
... Beyond the clouds of my silent life.

Often was my heart hears
The lyre of gentle breeze laid despair
... Whose willed am I to make life happy
Loneliness still was my dear friend

Oh yes! The silent spring that runs to my thirst
... like a love who learned to long for God
So often that my heart wept,
"Comfort me, Oh Lord... guide me through my days!"

"Through the sweet calm breeze, my traveller friend,
... please hear my voice, my wish be blest!
Swaying with hope, my fragile body, with the winds
Hoping that my prayers shall catch you from afar!"

So often was my eyes dazzled by your love
unto the heavens of your cheerful smile;
... Shining bright, curtains of sun
... unto the stars woderfurlly glisten' at the night

Please keep mind to those songs of praises,
... by birds of the air, my very old friends:
... who dance with the breezes, amidst joyful singing,
Praising Your wonders upon sweet morning spring

"To Thee, I raised my arms
Longing to honor Your majestic presence...
Amidst weeping and dreaming ,
... Longing was my soul to Your ever sweet Paradise!"

Old and ragged... and weak now I am
... But hope that my heart would weep for Thy love...!