Patay na tuod si Maria Clara Erlinda K.

Alburo

Ah, kadto bang nagluspad nga hinigugma

sa linuiban nga si Crisostomo Ibarra?
Matod pa ni Mama, kadto siya sulondon,
magsigeg kablit sa arpa, manggiulawon,
laming motimplag hamonada, hinayon,
moamin kada humag nobena, matinahoron,
ug unsa pa dihang uban nga mga –on-on,
nga karon malisod na natong ispilingon.
Wala na tingali nahabilin rong arpa
ug labihan kamahal maglutog hamonada,
ug unsa to, kalaay ba anang magsigeg nobena?
Si kinsa lay gustong santoson kay atong paantoson.
Ang kinahanglan sa babaye karon
maalam molalik sa awit nga iyang tukaron,
maabtik bisag wala pay bendisyon.
Kun naa pa ron si Mama unsa kahay iyang ikasulti?
Nga labaw pang naanhing kaniya si Maria Clara, mirisi!

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Pansit Adonis Durado

Mahadlok ko sa una
Kung gutumun si Papa, Ma.
Dili na siya mukaon.
Ang platong gisudlan
Nimo sa sud-an
Mokalit lag hagtok
Nganha sa imong ulo.
Ug sama sa kaguba
Sa karaan natong banggira
Ang balikas ni Papa:
“Litse! Yawa!”
wala ka bay laing ipakaon nako
kung dili pirmi na lang pansit?”

Ma, nahinumdum pa ko niini.

Presko pa kanako
Hangtud karon
Ang repolyong sagul sa pansit.
Hasta ang humot sa hebe
Ug tambok sa ginisang baboy
Nga nanab-it sa imong buhok.
Samtang sa nagkamantika
Nimong dangungoy
Gipuga sa atong bintana
Ang nalimonsitong buwan.

2
Kamatay sa Banika Adonis Durado

Nangapagod sa ubos sa dilaab sa adlaw ang mga

kugon ug hagunoy dihang miagi ang patayng lawas ni
Chinggay. Ang mga lisu sa aguyangyang nga
kaniadto iyang pulserason nangalubo og tuyo,
nagpasad sa dan. Ug gilitaniya sa mga tigdayong ang
ritmo sa kasakit diha sa sagudsod sa hilis niining mga
tsinelas. Karon, ang panon sa mga langgam ug
panganod kalit lang mangasaag. Ang huyop sa
huyuhoy giluom sa bakho ni Nang Maria: Wan-a si
Inday… Wan-a koy Inday….

Sa unahan, galukso-luksong misayaw ang dila sa kayo

sa gidaubang mga gamit ug bisti ni Chinggay samtang
mibayaw ang mga tibalas. Sigun pa sa mga
katiguwangan, mipanaw na ang kalag nga mikunsad
ngadto sa lawas sa langgam. Dayon milagiti ang
kakawayanan nga misuway paglumay sa kagot sa
gabas, kagit sa sapilya dihang luhaang gipanday ni
Noy Tadeo ang nilangkat nga tablang bungbong nga
igdapatay sa lungon sa anak.

Diha sa pagkaugdaw

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Diha sa pagkaugdaw Adonis Durado

I.
Makapaig ang kainit sa alas-dos.
Samtang gapasilong ilawom
sa poste sa kuryente,
mingislo ang nawong sa bata
nga gahangad sa iyang tabanog.
Kay nakuwangan sa hilig,
mitahirig kini, mitulillik
ngadto sa gabagang adlaw.
Ug kalit, nalantaw niya sa langit
nga ang nagkabus-ok nga panganod
gitugot sab sa itom, nangisog
nga asong naggikan
sa sikit-sikit nga mga atop.

“Sunog! Sunog! Su------------------------nog!”

Kalit nagkatibulaag ang mga istambay

nga gaduwag dama sa may tindahan.
Ang mga naghingot-anayng inahan
sa pantawn midali’g saka, sakmit
sa ilang mga anak nga giduyan
sa katagpilaw sa udtong tutok.
Ang lalaki sulod sa kasilyas mipugong
sa nag-ong-ong niyang tubol,
ug milargo’g sutoy, ambak sa paril.

Nagkaguliyang. Dunay mga siyagit.

Mga tiyabaw. Pagpangita. Pagkadagma.
Madungog ang sunod-sunod nga sirena
sa trak sa bomberong nagpangabot.
Samtang dali-daling nangahabwa gikan
sa ilang puy-anan ang mga tagbalay
nga gainiyahay’g pas-an sa bisag
unsang mapunit nga kabtangan.

Kimpang nga gapas-an og pridyider.

Magtiayong gasalbar sa ilang sala set.
Mga batang gakarag-karag, gasikwat
og plato, kalderong way takob,

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sinina, sapatos nga nalimtan ang paris.
Dayon mapamati ang pag-iwigik
sa mga nalitson nga baboy,
hasta ang pagpakiluoy sa mga iro
ug iring nga napriso sa balayng
gihabhab, gilamon sa dilaab sa kayo.

II.
Karon, diha sa pagkaugdaw, mopuli
ang kahaw-ang sa galamhan.
Mobakho ang byudong nalimtan
ang lungon sa gihayang minahal.
Samtang matanga ang babayeng
tungod sa iyang karatol, kalisang,
pulir ra sa kilay ang nabitbit.

5
Despidida kan Kirikay Eduardo Makabenta

Lakat na la, lakat na la kun malakat ka

Saho ko man, saho ko man bis la ngain,
Lakat na la di ak ha im mababaraka
Ngan di ha imo magbibiling.

An budo ayaw pagdada,

An bahaw ngan luwag,
Layas na kun malayas ka
Diri matangis an ak kalag.

Kapara na, kapara na ha ak paniplat

Pahirayo di ak ha im magaawil,
Pakadto na, gikan na ngan lurop ha dagat
Bis bugkuton ka hin bukawil.

Diri gad ha im mahawid

Paturon han paglakat,
Ibilin kalayo, tubig
Di ak ha im maglalanat.

GOODBYE TO KIRIKAY > Go, go, if that’s what you want! /I don’t care, don’t care where. /Just go, go,
I don’t care! /I won’t be looking for you! /You can’t bring the salted fish, /The leftover rice, the ladle. /Go,
go if you must, /I won’t be grieving about it, for sure. /Get out, out of my sight, /Go away, I’m not going
to miss you. /Leave now, leave, jump in the sea if you will. /If a conch gobbles you up, that’s fine too. /Well,
I’m not stopping you, /Go on, get going, /Just leave the fire behind, the water, /I’m not chasing after you,
never.

6
Siso, sakradang Janis Claire B. Salvacion

Nalingkod ka
ha gintupad ko nga mga tiil,
nadat-ol an dughan
ha akon mga bitiis,
an bayhon
ha tul-an han akon tuhod.
Ig-aabyog an imo lawas
han akon mga bitiis
san-o bumuhi an mga kamot
ha gintugkop naton nga mga palad

Siso, sakradang
Ginpanday ni Buranday
Siso, sakradang…

Ngan matawa ka hin tawa

nga makakapukaw
han mga umagi nga iginlaylay na
ha akon panumdoman—
dida han ako pa hi Inday
ginsisiso-siso
ha mga bitiis ni Nanay.

Siso, sakradang
Ginpanday ni Buranday
Siso, sakradang…

Maabot in’ adlaw, Otoy,

anhon ko man pagpugong
han daganas hini’n segundo,
kakapoyon ka hini nga aton mulay,
mamimiling ka hin mapakuligi
ha imo hin makurokusog,
mag-aabyog hin mas makurokoyaw,
mag-iitsa hin hurohataas.
Labot pa,
mabug-at ka na hadto nga duro
para akoson hit’ akon mga bitiis.
Pero ugsa hito,
ha yana,
ini nga humarapit nga higayon,

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bubul-iwan ta anay ikaw ha hangin
agud salohon
han akon mga kamot
naghuhulat han imo paghugdon.

Siso, sakradang
Ginpanday ni Buranday
Siso, sakradang…

SEESAW, UP AND DOWN > You sit /on the feet I have put together /leaning your chest on my legs,
/your face on the bones of my knees. /I’d swing your body up /on my legs /and then we let go of our hands
/joined palm to palm. //Seesaw, sakradang, /ginpanday ni Buranday, /seesaw, sakradang… //How your
laugh with a laughter /to waken all /that I had put aside /in my mind - /that timewhen I myself was a girl
child /swinging up and down /on my mother’s legs. //Seesaw, sakradang, /ginpanday ni Buranday, /seesaw,
sakradang… //The time will come, Otoy, vain though my effort be to stop /the seconds rushing by, /you’ll
soon tire of this game, /and you are looking for what could make you /laugh louder, swing you up higher.
//By then, you’ll be too heavy /For the strength of my legs to bear. /Before that time comes, /as of this very
moment, /let me loose you to the wind /so I could catch you in my hands, /ever waiting for your fall.
//Seesaw, sakradang, /ginpanday ni Buranday, /seesaw, sakradang…

8
Paghalipot hin bado Pedro Separa

Hunong na gad, Iday, haglipot nga bado,

Kay it’ mga buta nagkakasusumo;
Ha mga motorkab, paghaw-as, pagsakay,
Nagpapakapugwat bis’ mga minatay.

Ha iyo paglingkod tuhod, paa pulwa

Ngan may magirim pa kun ikaw makiwa;
It’ im’ matataktak makuri mapurot,
Kun ikaw gumuko kita it’ im’ pugtot.

ON THOSE SKIMPY DRESSES > Enough now, Iday, wearing these skimpy skirts, /For even the blind tire
of looking at you. /As you get on and off the motorcabs, your startle even the dead. //When you sit down
you show your knees, your thighs, /And something more peeps out when you move. /If you drop anything,
you can’t pick it up, /Cause if you bend, your buttocks would show.

9
Pagbarol Voltaire Q. Oyzon

Idinaitol an tadtaran
ngan pinahigda an buraw,
Ha may ikog han isda,
ipinadulot
an nag-iinggat han kamatarom
nga salsalon.

Tikang ha ikog, susubayon

Han katarom
an balidbid han isda, basi
gumimaw an duason nga unod.
Pag-abot ha may tangkugo,
mabalik an kutsilyo ngada
ha butnga han lawas
ngan iduduot tibalik ha siyahan
nga dinultan, pagbibitaron
an hiniwa nga unod han isda
ha bawbaw han tadtaran,
dudon-an han dugoon nga tudlo
ni Binyang an kutsilyo ha ulo
han isda
agud tibwayon an pagbuka.
Naragunot.

Waray mag-iha, may dumaraon,

hira Joe, an mga di-sugad-ha-aton
nga nagkaabot ngadi ha bungto
pira pa la ka semana an pumiktaw.
Didto han bato
nga sugad han bungkog
han karabaw an kahilapad,
didto kadisgrasya hi Binyang.
Ginbuka. Gintasikan. Ginbarol.

DRYING FISH > She lays the buraw /on the chopping board. /Working from tail, she makes a slit /with the
shiny sharp metal, /From the tail, the blade /carefully traces /the dorsal side of the fish /showing the pale
flesh. /She works it close to the head, /and then, works the knife /back again / to mid-body, back to where /
she made the first cut, /forcing open the flesh /there on the chopping board. /And then Binyang’s bloody
hands /bring the knife again to the head /to finish splitting it, /you could hear the bones crunch. //Soon

10
after, some arrivals, /Joe and company – they’re none of our kind /- who’d come to town /some few weeks
back. /There on that rock /as wide as a carabao’s back /Binyang meets her misfortune. /There she was pierced.
Opened. Like dried fish.

11
Pabay-i ang bulan Maria Milagros Lachica

‘Baw kanami
bilog liwan ang bulan
dali kita
tubiganay, garabay
shatbong, lagsanay
pabay-i ang TV
ipabinit ang betamaks
ti ano gid
kon Kung Fu Kids
ang now showing
sa balay ni Mal-am Tasing
(nga may bata nga obersis
amo r’a nga may betamaks)
mabayad pa timo ka pisos
(mahal bay kuryinti sa Antique)
ti ano gid
kon paamanan nanda
ka sini nga nagauba-uba
nagbilin si nanay
nga indi gid maglantaw ka –
ano?!
nagauba-uba?!
sa diin?!
ano oras maumpisa?!
pabay-i ang tubiganay
pabay-i si nanay
pabay-i ang bulan
mabilog pa r’a liwan –

NEVER MIND THE MOON > ‘Baw! Wonderful, /moon’s full again, /come on, /let’s play tubiganay,
garabay/shatbong, lagsanay, /leave the TV behind, /set aside the Betamax, /so what /if the Kung Fu kids
/are now showing /at the house of old Tasing /(who has a child overseas/that’s why they own a Betamax)
/you’ve still to pay a peso /(electricity’s dear in Antique, you see) /what of it /if they add on /a nudie show
as well /Nanay said /never to watch those - / what?! /a nudie show?! /where?! /when does it start? /Leave
the tubiganay /forget about Nanay /never mind the moon /it’ll be whole again soon.

12
Mapintas nga gugma John Paul B. Tia

Gab-i…kag sa hinali
ang kamatuoran nagtuhaw
nga daw kurit sa kalinong.

Duha ka landong – sia kag ikaw

pati sa damgo nagapigos,
nagapanin-ut sang balatyagon
nagapaupos sang nabilin nga paglaum
daw asin nga ginburibod sa pilas,
mahapdi, masakit (Ulan lang kuno
ang nagahaluk sa duta kag dili
ang langit).
Pagpamanag-banag, daw dagum
nga nagatuslok sa unod sang dughan,
hilu sa bibig ni Sokrates, kay ini man
nagabantala sang damgo sa kagab-ihon.

A, gugma, kapintas sa imo!

CRUEL LOVE > Night…And suddenly /truth appeared /like as streak in the silence. //Two shadows, /he
and you /forced even in dreams, /consuming feelings, /dredging the remnant hope, /like salt sprinkled on a
wound, /stinging, painful /(Only rain, it is said, /kisses the ground and never /the sky). //Dawn comes, like
a needle /piercing the breast, /venom on the lips of Socrates. For this too /announces the dream of the night.
//Ah, love, how cruel you are!

13
Sulat Alex C. Delos Santos

Nay,
Nabuy-an ko ang imo sulat pagdawu kang kartero,
Tuman gali ka bug-at bisan sampanid lamang.
Ang malauring nga tinta tama ka siri, siguro
Nagtagos sa papel naglubad ang iban
Nga mga tinaga, daw mga isla kun turukun.
Ginpangita ko dun diin nayon ang Antique.
Nay, indi ko run mabasa ang sulat mo.
Raku pa nga mga isla ang nagturuhaw.
Napuno run ang pahina. Kun ano man ang sugid mo
Parte kay Tatay kag akun mga libayun,
Kaluy-an sanda kang Diyos, Nay, indi run ako pagsulati.
Indi run natun pagpaayawan ang kartero.
Kinii ang paggamit kang tinta agud indi mamantsahan
Ang lamesa mo sa kusina kang mga isla
Nga indi ko gusto nga Makita ruman.
Nagapalangga,
Ang imong anak.

LETTER > Nay /I dropped your letter when the mailman handed it to me. /Only one sheet, but it was
heavy, /The coal-black ink too sharp, soaking into the paper, maybe /Staining the table in your kitchen. /At
the bottom of the paper some of the words /Are faded, appearing like islands /I looked for Antique among
them. /Nay, I couldn’t read your letter, /Bigger islands appeared, filling the page. /Whatever you told me
about Tatay and my siblings, /I can only pray /That God take pity on them. /Nay, please stop writing me.
/Let’s not give the mailman a hard time. /Go easy on the ink, so as not to stain /Your kitchen table, and the
islands, /I don’t want to see them again. /Lovingly, /Your son.

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Pinihak-pihak nga damgo John Paul B. Tia

Pinihak-pihak nga damgo

nga gindas-ug sa apat ka pamusod
kang kwarentahon,
pang-short time nga kwarto;
Katre, lamesa kag tasa;
gusok nga nagalulutaw
sa hublas nga dagway sa espeho.
Butod nga demonyo ang nagbulos
sa singkaw sang karabaw.
Samtang luha nagaagay sa guya,
tibihon nga iloy kag gision nga kamiseta
sa bukog nga lawas sang manghod
ang makit-an sa kisame.

Kalinong…
Pananglitan nga gintampa
sang kamot sang taknaan
ang tagsa ka numero
sa iya nawong…
Dugay-dugay lang
may bulong na si Nanay
kag may bayu na si Toto.

TORN DREAMS > Torn dreams/ stuffed within the four corners /of the forty-peso, quickie room. /Bed,
table and cup. /Ribs sticking out /of the naked figure in the mirror. //Paunchy demon /takes over /the
carabao’s yoke. /As tears roll down her face /tubercular mother /and tattered undershirt /on a bony body of
a younger sibling /she sees on the ceiling. //Silence… /suppose the clock’s hand /slaps each number on her
face… //In a short while /mother will have her medicine, /and little brother his shirt.

15
State of the Nation Victor N. Sugbo

Noy Tatong cooks for a Panamanian crew

Of a Dutch cargo ship;
His letters tell of vast oceans and waves
Huge as town cathedrals:
The icy coldness he dreads each time
The ship tosses wildly in the Arctic dark;
Nang Loleng babysits for an Arab couple in Dharan;
She cries when she is left alone
Locked in her master’s house like some convict;
She writes young girls like her jump
Out of windows there;
Nanay collects their dollars always with a long deep sigh;
Noy Tatong, Nang Loleng, I keep your pictures
Between the folds of my notebook;
O how we must live apart
To stay together.

16
Bringing the Dolls Merlie M. Alunan
(For Anya)

Two dolls in rags and tatters,

one missing an arm and leg,
the other blind in one eye –
I grabbed the from her arms,
“No,” I said, “they cannot come.”

Each tight luggage

I had packed
only for the barest need:
no room for sentiment or memory
to clutter with loose ends
my stern resolve. I reasoned,
even a child must learn
she cannot take what must be left behind.

And so the boat turned seaward,

a smart wind blowing dry
the stealthy tears I could not wipe.
Then I saw – rags, tatters and all –
there among the neat trim packs,
the dolls I ruled to leave behind.

Her silence should have warned me

she knew her burdens
as I knew mine:
her clean white years unlived –
and paid my price.
She battened on a truth
she knew I too must own:
when what’s at stake is loyalty or love,
hers are the true rights.
Her own faiths she must keep, not I.

17
Matchboxes Maria Cristina Martinez-Juan

They laid her to rest in a matchbox,

all that was left of her were ashes.
They found her, gathered up in a little heap,
in the corner where she used to sit,
old, very old. Papery gray.

According to accounts,
she simply, and quietly, burst into flames,
all by herself. A process they call
spontaneous combustion. No one understands
how it happens. Or why these strange fires
have a special fondness for damp soil
rotten driftwood, or grandmothers.

But it could have been because she stared

And kept at it too much. Almost only.
Or it could have been her rasping breath
that rattled through her hollow frame.
Too much friction.
Or, who knows
It may have been an accident –
A random spark on her brittle hair,
her crumpled skin, her paper nails.
Old people are a mess.
Now, they’re fire hazards as well.

18
A Page from the New Diary Nida Fazli

The day changed

only on the calendar
the steel belted dial of time
turned
the clockwork-doll
stepped beyond the threshold
of its home
and danced in circle
hand clapped
laughters crowned the scene
a playful sun-deer
panted and trembled
dashed into the black tyre
of the last bus
fell and went to pieces
one more day
turned away offended.
Exactly
what I had feared
happened today
today again
nothing happened.

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The Voice of a Snowflake Knuts Skujenieks

In a moment I’ll melt –

Enjoy me!

Enjoy me as a work of art,

as fruition
as a final result.

But if you don’t see

in my small six-pointed shape
the tragedy of cyclones and anticyclones,
the whiteness and blackness of the entire world,
if you only delight in me,
I will silently suffer.

I will have arrived in vain,

I will have melted in vain.

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I felt a Funeral, in my Brain Emily Dickinson

I felt a Funeral, in my Brain,

And Mourners to and fro
Kept treading – treading – till it seemed
That Sense was breaking through –

And when they all were seated,

A Service, like a Drum –
Kept beating – beating – till I thought
My Mind was going numb –

And then I heard them lift a Box

And creak across my Soul
With those same Boots of Lead, again,
Then Space – began to toll,

As all the Heavens were a Bell,

And Being, but an Ear,
And I, and Silence, some strange Race
Wrecked, solitary, here –

And then a Plank in Reason, broke,

And I dropped down, and down –
And hit a World, at every plunge,
And Finished knowing – then –

21
Ozymandias Percy Bysshe Shelley

I met a traveller from an antique land

Who said: “Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert . . . Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed:
And on the pedestal these words appear:
‘My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!'
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.”

22
 To His Coy Mistress Andrew Marvell

Had we but world enough and time,

This coyness, lady, were no crime.
We would sit down, and think which way
To walk, and pass our long love’s day.
Thou by the Indian Ganges’ side
Shouldst rubies find; I by the tide
Of Humber would complain. I would
Love you ten years before the flood,
And you should, if you please, refuse
Till the conversion of the Jews.
My vegetable love should grow
Vaster than empires and more slow;
An hundred years should go to praise
Thine eyes, and on thy forehead gaze;
Two hundred to adore each breast,
But thirty thousand to the rest;
An age at least to every part,
And the last age should show your heart.
For, lady, you deserve this state,
Nor would I love at lower rate.
But at my back I always hear
Time’s wingèd chariot hurrying near;
And yonder all before us lie
Deserts of vast eternity.
Thy beauty shall no more be found;
Nor, in thy marble vault, shall sound
My echoing song; then worms shall try
That long-preserved virginity,
And your quaint honour turn to dust,
And into ashes all my lust;
The grave’s a fine and private place,
But none, I think, do there embrace.
Now therefore, while the youthful hue
Sits on thy skin like morning dew,
And while thy willing soul transpires
At every pore with instant fires,
Now let us sport us while we may,
And now, like amorous birds of prey,
Rather at once our time devour
Than languish in his slow-chapped power.

23
Let us roll all our strength and all
Our sweetness up into one ball,
And tear our pleasures with rough strife
Through the iron gates of life:
Thus, though we cannot make our sun
Stand still, yet we will make him run.

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