Ambon,Ulan, Baha By: Frank Rivera
AMBON ULAN BAHA” is a two-hour ethno-rock modern zarzuela that showcases twenty original musical scores inspired by kundiman, balitaw, ethnic and modern musical trends with choreography based on ethnic, folk/traditional and creative dances
An original production of the celebrated Mindanao State University –Sining Kambayoka ( founded by Theater Artist Frank G. Rivera ) in 1978, “ Ambom…” was remounted by Teatro Metropolitano through NCCA Grant in 1992, also at the helm of Rivera.
This long –time running musical which predicted the Ormoc tragedy in 1991, highlights environmental concerns and focuses on the preservation of Philippine forests. It also deals heavily on Filipino values, the importance of education, religion, family and youth. It also carries relevant commentaries on socio-economic and political issues of the times. It aims to educate its audiences especially the youth about issues of urgent and national importance To – date, ARNAI’s “ Ambon, Ulan, Baha” has been sponsored by several organizations and institutions and has seen more than 500 performances. The zarzuela’s success in depicting the Filipino lives after almost three decades after it was first staged, proved its timelessness and its relevance to the evolutions of Philippine Theater.
Its music, inspired by folk/traditional songs like balitaw and kundiman, formerly considered provincial “ bakya “ , and unsophisticated as compared to “mainstream” of legitimate theater, proved to be good venue for improvisation and fusion, thus exploring and experimenting for new forms.
Its dances: a fusion of folk/traditional, modern and creative movements showcase creative interpretation of the play’s songs and scene.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
MAYNILA 1898
Labanan sa Look ng Maynila (1898)
Ang Labanan sa Look ng Maynila ay pagsiklab ng digmaan sa pagitan ng Estados Unidos at Espanya ay nag-udyok sa Estados Unidos na sakupin ang Pilipinas. Ipinakita ng mga Amerikano ang kapangyarihang militar nito nang lusubin ng kanilang hukbong pandagat ang hukbo ng mga Español sa Look ng Maynila noong Mayo 1, 1898. Walang nagawa ang mga Espanyol kundi isuko ang Pilipinas sa mga Amerikano. Upang hindi malagay sa kahihiyan ang Spain, nakipagkasundo ang Estados Unidos na magkaroon ng kunwa-kunwariang labanan sa Maynila. Isinagawa ito noong Agosto 13, 1898. Inakala ng hukbo ni Aguinaldo na magkakaroon ng tunay na paglusob ang mga Amerikano laban sa mga Español kaya nag-alok siya ng tulong militar ngunit hindi ito tinanggap ng mga Amerikano. Sa pamamagitan ng kunwa-kunwariang labanang ito, ipinakita ng mga Espanyol na lumaban ang mga hukbo nito sa abot ng kanilang makakaya at hanggang sa huling sandali.
Ang Labanan sa Look ng Maynila ay pagsiklab ng digmaan sa pagitan ng Estados Unidos at Espanya ay nag-udyok sa Estados Unidos na sakupin ang Pilipinas. Ipinakita ng mga Amerikano ang kapangyarihang militar nito nang lusubin ng kanilang hukbong pandagat ang hukbo ng mga Español sa Look ng Maynila noong Mayo 1, 1898. Walang nagawa ang mga Espanyol kundi isuko ang Pilipinas sa mga Amerikano. Upang hindi malagay sa kahihiyan ang Spain, nakipagkasundo ang Estados Unidos na magkaroon ng kunwa-kunwariang labanan sa Maynila. Isinagawa ito noong Agosto 13, 1898. Inakala ng hukbo ni Aguinaldo na magkakaroon ng tunay na paglusob ang mga Amerikano laban sa mga Español kaya nag-alok siya ng tulong militar ngunit hindi ito tinanggap ng mga Amerikano. Sa pamamagitan ng kunwa-kunwariang labanang ito, ipinakita ng mga Espanyol na lumaban ang mga hukbo nito sa abot ng kanilang makakaya at hanggang sa huling sandali.
GAGAMBA
he drooled every time she undressed before him. Her breasts were not all that large and her height, thirty-four inches seemed almost small.
10. Namnama- Gagamba’s wife. She was adopted by Aling Pacing because she was an orphan back then. She did not look at the deformity of Gagamba and did not hesitate to marry the cripple.
11. Joe Patalinghug- A 22 year old man. He and his wife traveled from Dalaguete to Manila because of the fear that he will also be killed like his two brothers. Joe’s younger brother was killed; the reason why he and his wife went to Manila, knowing that he would probably be killed. He has a teenage wife whose name was Nancy, who was 6, months pregnant. Because of sudden-environment change and no one helped them; they ended up begging in the streets of Manila.
12. Pedro (Pete) Domingo- also known as Jose Rizal at Camarin. Although he is 50 years old, he is still youthful. He is the easygoing and voluble head waiter in Camarin. After several years of working in Camarin with Madam Gamboa and Sir Fred he already know by heart the favorite order of most of the costumers. He has a wife named Bebang who had a cancer and will die in nearly 2 months.
13. Sixto Carmelo- also known as Mabini, also a waiter of Camarin, a close friend of Rizal. He came from Tayug, Pangasinan and like Rizal, was Ilokano. He has no problems at all but his looks because he was the darkest and in senses the homeliest of the waiters in Camarin but he is the most popular waiter in Camarin because of his quick and honest answers.
14. Jim Denison- Son of Ruth Denison, who would be going to Asia for the first time, specifically to Philippines. But the other reason behind his brilliant mind is actually, he wanted to meet his half sister and the Filipino wife of his father Cresencia Reyes.
15. Emma Denison- Jim Denison’s half sister, daughter of Cresencia Reyes. She was always being protected by Cresencia her mom, specifically her virginity. Emma was always in the list of honored students in his high school and college years. More than of her intelligence, she was also very beautiful that she won the title of Miss Philippines.
16. Hiroki Sato- executive of Mitsui, who liked the Philippines best of all Southeast Asian Countries. He visited annually. He was wary in dealings with the Filipinos in the beginning what attract him most in returning the Philippines is actually the girls which his friend, Mars Floro, is partnering with him. He has one child.
17. Mars Floro- Close friend of Hiroki Sato, who has as well one child like his friend. But what his friend doesn’t know about him is that he has a dozen of children with different women.
18. Eric Hariyan- he is a friend of Gaston Navato when they were taking up law in University of the Philippines. He is a student leader. With his friend, that led those Demos against Marcos regime. When they were released for Marcos got irritated with them and put them in jail, he got a fellowship to Yale. Eric Hariyan is brighter than his companion, was in more modest circumstances. He is parenting six children. He was famous for his intelligence.
19. Gaston Navato- also known as Gasty, he was with his friend in University of the Philippines and in prison. But when they were released he stayed on, took the bar and continued his human rights campaign against the regime. He was middle class. Eric and him remained friends.
20. Rudy Golangco- Marco’s closest crony. He had gone into exile when the dictator was deposed. And now he was out of power and only way he could get back all the wealth that been taken from him was to acquire political clout himself.
21. Eduardo Dantes- is a business man who retired from his active life for he was already old and weak, actually in the age of 80. He had left the management of his publishing empire to his two sons. He always dresses elegantly. In his age he could still walk sprightly, with no need for a nurse the way other ancients move abort a nurse always in tow. He hates Japanese a lot.
22. Senator Reyes- wheeled senator for he is having some medical tests. HE is eighty years old as Eduardo Dantes. He is also retired from his janges life. His vast property were divided among his heirs but was assured a hefty income in his last days from his investments and stocks.
23. Dolf Contreras- was not a regular Camarin costumer. He had a very successful real estate business which he had inherited from his father whom he has paid his grate attention. He is now in his forty. He has a wife whose name was Elisa. But before her, he had a lot of affairs with different women, mutually and sexually.
24. Elisa- Dolf Contreras’s wife. A patient woman who bears all the things that Dolf throws to her. She is working before in Camarin, where Dolf actually met her. Even though her patience was long, she still got fed up with what Dolf was doing to her. She went a far from Dolf and ended up being a nun.
25. Tony Picazo- is a son of an honest politician. He visited his former teacher, Fr.dela Terra. He is a young man who is losing hope for his own country, Philippines. He is planning to migrate to other country and leave his own. He is earning a lot.
26. Fr. Dela Terra- old priest, who is actually considered to be a missionary. He is a Spanish priest who came from China before getting in the Philippines. He lived almost half of his life in the Philippines, to be specific 30 years of his life on earth. And because of this he really doesn’t want to go back to the Seedbed of his life, in Spain. And he believes in the capacity of the young people.
27. Major Solomon (Sol) Flor- Philippine Military Class ’72. He is a senior aide to Major General Calixto (Cal) Primo and general’s confidante, he lives a very simple life compare to his co-majors. Actually just renting an apartment in Cubao. He is living with his wife and children.
28. Colonel Simeon Flores- an elegant and dishonest colonel who is a close friend of his opposite Major Sol. He is tempting and influencing Major Sol to do something which in one click will make him a millionaire.
SETTING:
The story happened on July 15, 1990, Sunday at around one pm, a killer earthquake – the strongest recorded in the Philippine history – struck and for four minutes of apocalyptic turbulence, Central Luzon including Manila was submerged in a wave of panic. Farther to the north of the capital, where the epicenter was recorded as exceeding intensity 8 on the Richter scale, the landscape was changed as mountainsides crumbled and the earth cracked. The story was ended at the Camarin building on Marcelo H. Del Pilar Street – the only building in Manila which totally wrecked.
PLOT
The date of the mid July 1990, the earthquake happened and so many people died in the natural disaster, rich, beggars, old, and all kind of creatures are being suffered because this earthquake is the strongest recorded in the Philippine history. Gagamba a sweepstakes’ vendor located in the Ermita restaurant also known as Camarin. Gagamba is not a beggar nevertheless he had a casualties and defects in his body. He was born with short limb that why he always stays in his cart to move and work to have food every day. All of the costumers are being known by gagamba and their stories, gagamba told the story all costumers og camarin restaurant. The first one is a landlord, Fred Villa.
The big boss of Camarin because madam Didi was migrated in the United States and Fred was being appointed to take charge of the business. His girls are well selected to work in the Camarin, All of the women in the Camarin would be tested first by Fred and one of them is Lina an eighteen year old girl from Pampanga. She was beautiful not taller but in the average height. Her family is in the middle class but her studies not so well supported by family that why she found a job like this.
There are costumer, Mars Floro who waited to her but Fred Villa where tested her first. The next character was a Cebuano; Joe Patalinhug arrived on November in 1989. In the first day in manila they are slept in a culvert intended to the bridge construction site in Tondo Manila. After a month’s they know that there’s a people from Cebu was staying in the squatters area in Paranaque that Joe’s family can live. They life is worst than their life in Cebu before because they have only a little rice and some salted oyster mussel. He live his wife in Tondo and went to Paranaque alone to have a better life and find a job that suits his capacity.
The next character was apparent and a regular costumer of Camarin. He is Pedro (pete) Domingo, he is youthful and still wavy hair in place and lived at the squatter area close to the Rizal Memorial stadium. The place was once swum, and being criticized by other people, Although Rizal and his children lived in squatters surroundings. Rizal had discovered his wife had a cancer, two months to live. His children do not know what to do and Rizal makes all way to cure and extend the life of his wife. He tried so many faith healers one of those was the faith healer of former president Marcos. He tried going to Quipo and completing the nine days on novena and to the Baclaran. He wishes to God his wife would be spared not to death because all men die, but the pain that she was now suffering. Eric hariyan and Gaston was best friend in university of the Philippines.
`While Eric is joining in the Law firm of lastog, Cacab and Rawet. One of the biggest law firms in the county. They are jailed in camp Crame because they oppose to government of President Marcos. They have experienced together nevertheless they have so many differences they were stay as best friend, While Eric invited him to meet Rudy Golangco, perhaps Marco’s closest crony. While Marcos dictatorship change the ownership the majority stock went to Rudy Golangco. Lastog want to meet him because e want to interrogate asked at so many issues before about him. First he research and finding all the information about him and use his knowledge as a lawyer and give so many question hat Rudy cannot be known.
There are com http://gomezjames.blogspot.com/2009/12/gagamba-by-f-sionil-jose.html
10. Namnama- Gagamba’s wife. She was adopted by Aling Pacing because she was an orphan back then. She did not look at the deformity of Gagamba and did not hesitate to marry the cripple.
11. Joe Patalinghug- A 22 year old man. He and his wife traveled from Dalaguete to Manila because of the fear that he will also be killed like his two brothers. Joe’s younger brother was killed; the reason why he and his wife went to Manila, knowing that he would probably be killed. He has a teenage wife whose name was Nancy, who was 6, months pregnant. Because of sudden-environment change and no one helped them; they ended up begging in the streets of Manila.
12. Pedro (Pete) Domingo- also known as Jose Rizal at Camarin. Although he is 50 years old, he is still youthful. He is the easygoing and voluble head waiter in Camarin. After several years of working in Camarin with Madam Gamboa and Sir Fred he already know by heart the favorite order of most of the costumers. He has a wife named Bebang who had a cancer and will die in nearly 2 months.
13. Sixto Carmelo- also known as Mabini, also a waiter of Camarin, a close friend of Rizal. He came from Tayug, Pangasinan and like Rizal, was Ilokano. He has no problems at all but his looks because he was the darkest and in senses the homeliest of the waiters in Camarin but he is the most popular waiter in Camarin because of his quick and honest answers.
14. Jim Denison- Son of Ruth Denison, who would be going to Asia for the first time, specifically to Philippines. But the other reason behind his brilliant mind is actually, he wanted to meet his half sister and the Filipino wife of his father Cresencia Reyes.
15. Emma Denison- Jim Denison’s half sister, daughter of Cresencia Reyes. She was always being protected by Cresencia her mom, specifically her virginity. Emma was always in the list of honored students in his high school and college years. More than of her intelligence, she was also very beautiful that she won the title of Miss Philippines.
16. Hiroki Sato- executive of Mitsui, who liked the Philippines best of all Southeast Asian Countries. He visited annually. He was wary in dealings with the Filipinos in the beginning what attract him most in returning the Philippines is actually the girls which his friend, Mars Floro, is partnering with him. He has one child.
17. Mars Floro- Close friend of Hiroki Sato, who has as well one child like his friend. But what his friend doesn’t know about him is that he has a dozen of children with different women.
18. Eric Hariyan- he is a friend of Gaston Navato when they were taking up law in University of the Philippines. He is a student leader. With his friend, that led those Demos against Marcos regime. When they were released for Marcos got irritated with them and put them in jail, he got a fellowship to Yale. Eric Hariyan is brighter than his companion, was in more modest circumstances. He is parenting six children. He was famous for his intelligence.
19. Gaston Navato- also known as Gasty, he was with his friend in University of the Philippines and in prison. But when they were released he stayed on, took the bar and continued his human rights campaign against the regime. He was middle class. Eric and him remained friends.
20. Rudy Golangco- Marco’s closest crony. He had gone into exile when the dictator was deposed. And now he was out of power and only way he could get back all the wealth that been taken from him was to acquire political clout himself.
21. Eduardo Dantes- is a business man who retired from his active life for he was already old and weak, actually in the age of 80. He had left the management of his publishing empire to his two sons. He always dresses elegantly. In his age he could still walk sprightly, with no need for a nurse the way other ancients move abort a nurse always in tow. He hates Japanese a lot.
22. Senator Reyes- wheeled senator for he is having some medical tests. HE is eighty years old as Eduardo Dantes. He is also retired from his janges life. His vast property were divided among his heirs but was assured a hefty income in his last days from his investments and stocks.
23. Dolf Contreras- was not a regular Camarin costumer. He had a very successful real estate business which he had inherited from his father whom he has paid his grate attention. He is now in his forty. He has a wife whose name was Elisa. But before her, he had a lot of affairs with different women, mutually and sexually.
24. Elisa- Dolf Contreras’s wife. A patient woman who bears all the things that Dolf throws to her. She is working before in Camarin, where Dolf actually met her. Even though her patience was long, she still got fed up with what Dolf was doing to her. She went a far from Dolf and ended up being a nun.
25. Tony Picazo- is a son of an honest politician. He visited his former teacher, Fr.dela Terra. He is a young man who is losing hope for his own country, Philippines. He is planning to migrate to other country and leave his own. He is earning a lot.
26. Fr. Dela Terra- old priest, who is actually considered to be a missionary. He is a Spanish priest who came from China before getting in the Philippines. He lived almost half of his life in the Philippines, to be specific 30 years of his life on earth. And because of this he really doesn’t want to go back to the Seedbed of his life, in Spain. And he believes in the capacity of the young people.
27. Major Solomon (Sol) Flor- Philippine Military Class ’72. He is a senior aide to Major General Calixto (Cal) Primo and general’s confidante, he lives a very simple life compare to his co-majors. Actually just renting an apartment in Cubao. He is living with his wife and children.
28. Colonel Simeon Flores- an elegant and dishonest colonel who is a close friend of his opposite Major Sol. He is tempting and influencing Major Sol to do something which in one click will make him a millionaire.
SETTING:
The story happened on July 15, 1990, Sunday at around one pm, a killer earthquake – the strongest recorded in the Philippine history – struck and for four minutes of apocalyptic turbulence, Central Luzon including Manila was submerged in a wave of panic. Farther to the north of the capital, where the epicenter was recorded as exceeding intensity 8 on the Richter scale, the landscape was changed as mountainsides crumbled and the earth cracked. The story was ended at the Camarin building on Marcelo H. Del Pilar Street – the only building in Manila which totally wrecked.
PLOT
The date of the mid July 1990, the earthquake happened and so many people died in the natural disaster, rich, beggars, old, and all kind of creatures are being suffered because this earthquake is the strongest recorded in the Philippine history. Gagamba a sweepstakes’ vendor located in the Ermita restaurant also known as Camarin. Gagamba is not a beggar nevertheless he had a casualties and defects in his body. He was born with short limb that why he always stays in his cart to move and work to have food every day. All of the costumers are being known by gagamba and their stories, gagamba told the story all costumers og camarin restaurant. The first one is a landlord, Fred Villa.
The big boss of Camarin because madam Didi was migrated in the United States and Fred was being appointed to take charge of the business. His girls are well selected to work in the Camarin, All of the women in the Camarin would be tested first by Fred and one of them is Lina an eighteen year old girl from Pampanga. She was beautiful not taller but in the average height. Her family is in the middle class but her studies not so well supported by family that why she found a job like this.
There are costumer, Mars Floro who waited to her but Fred Villa where tested her first. The next character was a Cebuano; Joe Patalinhug arrived on November in 1989. In the first day in manila they are slept in a culvert intended to the bridge construction site in Tondo Manila. After a month’s they know that there’s a people from Cebu was staying in the squatters area in Paranaque that Joe’s family can live. They life is worst than their life in Cebu before because they have only a little rice and some salted oyster mussel. He live his wife in Tondo and went to Paranaque alone to have a better life and find a job that suits his capacity.
The next character was apparent and a regular costumer of Camarin. He is Pedro (pete) Domingo, he is youthful and still wavy hair in place and lived at the squatter area close to the Rizal Memorial stadium. The place was once swum, and being criticized by other people, Although Rizal and his children lived in squatters surroundings. Rizal had discovered his wife had a cancer, two months to live. His children do not know what to do and Rizal makes all way to cure and extend the life of his wife. He tried so many faith healers one of those was the faith healer of former president Marcos. He tried going to Quipo and completing the nine days on novena and to the Baclaran. He wishes to God his wife would be spared not to death because all men die, but the pain that she was now suffering. Eric hariyan and Gaston was best friend in university of the Philippines.
`While Eric is joining in the Law firm of lastog, Cacab and Rawet. One of the biggest law firms in the county. They are jailed in camp Crame because they oppose to government of President Marcos. They have experienced together nevertheless they have so many differences they were stay as best friend, While Eric invited him to meet Rudy Golangco, perhaps Marco’s closest crony. While Marcos dictatorship change the ownership the majority stock went to Rudy Golangco. Lastog want to meet him because e want to interrogate asked at so many issues before about him. First he research and finding all the information about him and use his knowledge as a lawyer and give so many question hat Rudy cannot be known.
There are com http://gomezjames.blogspot.com/2009/12/gagamba-by-f-sionil-jose.html
SI ANABELLA NI MAGDALENA JALANDONI
Si Anabella ni Magdalena Jalandoni
Unang inilathala ang maikling kuwentong “Si Anabella” ni
Magdalena Jalandoni sa libro ni Corazon Villareal,
Translating the Sugilanon (1994, 135-141). Kalakip ang
orihinal nito sa isang lupon ng mga makiniladyong maikling kuwento
ni Jalandoni, na pinamagatang Hinugpong nga mga Sugilanon 1936-
1938. Nailathala din ang saling Filipino ni Villareal sa nirebisang
edisyon ng antolohiyang Philippine Literature: A History and
Anthology (1997, 151-154) ni Bienvenido Lumbera.
Sa unang pagsipat ng kuwentong “Si Anabella,” ating iisiping
taglay nito ang pormula ng mga romantikong kuwentong laganap
noong panahong ito’y nasulat, sa pagitan ng mga taong 1936-1938.
Magsisimula ang melodramatikong banghay sa pag-iibigan ng
dalawang magkaiba ng estado sa buhay, hahadlangan ito ng palalong
ina ng mayaman, susubukin ang katapatan ng magkasintahan, aangat
ang estado ng mahirap sa di inaasahang paraan upang sa wakas ay
magsasama uli sila, at magtatagumpay ang kanilang wagas na pag-
ibig.
Sa pagbubuod ni Villareal sa banghay ng kuwento, may
naidagdag siyang ilang detalyeng hindi binabanggit sa kuwento.
Halimbawa, na sumayaw ang magkasintahan sa tahanan ng binata,
at kinainggitan sila ng lahat; na nagsanib ang liwanag ng buwan at
ningning ng bituin sa loob ng isang gabi (1994, 13; aking salin mula
sa Ingles):
4748
“Si Anabella”
Isang pagunitang paglalakbay sa panahon ng dekada
treinta ang kuwentong “Si Anabella.” Isang gabing
maliwanag ang buwan at mga bituin, hinarana ng
binata ang dilag ng kaniyang biyolin. Sa himig ng
isang buong orkestra, sumayaw sila sa malawak na
sala ng malapalasyong tahanan ng binata. Nguni’t
ang binata’y mayaman, at inilayo siya ng kaniyang
ina sa kaniyang pinupusuan. Subalit buong tiyagang
naghintay si Anabella sa pagbabalik nito, at sa wakas
sila ay muling nagsama. (“Anabella” is a nostalgic
trip to the ‘30s. The beau serenades his love with a
violin on a moonlit and starry night, they dance in
the spacious sala of his palatial home to the strains
of a full orchestra, they are the envy of everyone
on the dancefloor. But he is rich and his mother
takes him away from his lover. Anabella, however,
waits patiently for his return and eventually they
are reunited.)
Kung magpatianod ang isang mambabasa sa romantikong
tradisyon, maaari ngang aakalin niyang may taglay itong mga
romantikong sangkap na sa katunayan ay hindi naman makikita sa
kuwento mismo. Hindi naman lubhang mali ang ganitong paraan
ng pagbasa kung ipinapalagay na ang kuwentong “Si Anabella” ay
akmang halimbawa ng isang makaluma’t romantikong kuwento.
Dagdag pa ni Villareal bilang komentaryo sa kuwento (1994, 13):
Maaaring sabihing pinapatibay ng “Si Anabella” ang
puna ng mga manunuri hinggil sa kahinaan ng
panitikang bernakular sa Pilipinas: na ito’y dulot
ng “malagkit na romantisismo,” “walang kaingatan
sa teknik,” pagkabuhaghag ng estruktura,
“didaktisismo,” at “sentimentalismo.” (In a way,
“Anabella” confirms what critics have listed as the
weaknesses of vernacular literature in the
Philippines: “a cloying romanticism,”)
http://journals.upd.edu.ph/index.php/dilimanreview/article/view/753/751
Unang inilathala ang maikling kuwentong “Si Anabella” ni
Magdalena Jalandoni sa libro ni Corazon Villareal,
Translating the Sugilanon (1994, 135-141). Kalakip ang
orihinal nito sa isang lupon ng mga makiniladyong maikling kuwento
ni Jalandoni, na pinamagatang Hinugpong nga mga Sugilanon 1936-
1938. Nailathala din ang saling Filipino ni Villareal sa nirebisang
edisyon ng antolohiyang Philippine Literature: A History and
Anthology (1997, 151-154) ni Bienvenido Lumbera.
Sa unang pagsipat ng kuwentong “Si Anabella,” ating iisiping
taglay nito ang pormula ng mga romantikong kuwentong laganap
noong panahong ito’y nasulat, sa pagitan ng mga taong 1936-1938.
Magsisimula ang melodramatikong banghay sa pag-iibigan ng
dalawang magkaiba ng estado sa buhay, hahadlangan ito ng palalong
ina ng mayaman, susubukin ang katapatan ng magkasintahan, aangat
ang estado ng mahirap sa di inaasahang paraan upang sa wakas ay
magsasama uli sila, at magtatagumpay ang kanilang wagas na pag-
ibig.
Sa pagbubuod ni Villareal sa banghay ng kuwento, may
naidagdag siyang ilang detalyeng hindi binabanggit sa kuwento.
Halimbawa, na sumayaw ang magkasintahan sa tahanan ng binata,
at kinainggitan sila ng lahat; na nagsanib ang liwanag ng buwan at
ningning ng bituin sa loob ng isang gabi (1994, 13; aking salin mula
sa Ingles):
4748
“Si Anabella”
Isang pagunitang paglalakbay sa panahon ng dekada
treinta ang kuwentong “Si Anabella.” Isang gabing
maliwanag ang buwan at mga bituin, hinarana ng
binata ang dilag ng kaniyang biyolin. Sa himig ng
isang buong orkestra, sumayaw sila sa malawak na
sala ng malapalasyong tahanan ng binata. Nguni’t
ang binata’y mayaman, at inilayo siya ng kaniyang
ina sa kaniyang pinupusuan. Subalit buong tiyagang
naghintay si Anabella sa pagbabalik nito, at sa wakas
sila ay muling nagsama. (“Anabella” is a nostalgic
trip to the ‘30s. The beau serenades his love with a
violin on a moonlit and starry night, they dance in
the spacious sala of his palatial home to the strains
of a full orchestra, they are the envy of everyone
on the dancefloor. But he is rich and his mother
takes him away from his lover. Anabella, however,
waits patiently for his return and eventually they
are reunited.)
Kung magpatianod ang isang mambabasa sa romantikong
tradisyon, maaari ngang aakalin niyang may taglay itong mga
romantikong sangkap na sa katunayan ay hindi naman makikita sa
kuwento mismo. Hindi naman lubhang mali ang ganitong paraan
ng pagbasa kung ipinapalagay na ang kuwentong “Si Anabella” ay
akmang halimbawa ng isang makaluma’t romantikong kuwento.
Dagdag pa ni Villareal bilang komentaryo sa kuwento (1994, 13):
Maaaring sabihing pinapatibay ng “Si Anabella” ang
puna ng mga manunuri hinggil sa kahinaan ng
panitikang bernakular sa Pilipinas: na ito’y dulot
ng “malagkit na romantisismo,” “walang kaingatan
sa teknik,” pagkabuhaghag ng estruktura,
“didaktisismo,” at “sentimentalismo.” (In a way,
“Anabella” confirms what critics have listed as the
weaknesses of vernacular literature in the
Philippines: “a cloying romanticism,”)
http://journals.upd.edu.ph/index.php/dilimanreview/article/view/753/751
VALEDITION SA HILL CREST
Valediction sa hill crest
Pagkacollect ng Railway Express sa aking things
(Deretso na iyon sa barko while I take the plane.)
Inakyat kong muli ang N-311, at dahil dead of winter,
Nakatopcoat at galoshes akong
Nagright-turn sa N wing ng mahabang dilim
(Tunnel yatang aabot hanggang Tundo.)
Kinapa ko ang switch sa hall.
Sa isang pitik, nagshrink ang imaginary tunnel,
Nagparang ataol.
Or catacomb.
Strangely absolute ang impression
Ng hilera ng mga pintong nagpuprusisyon:
Individual identification, parang mummy cases,
De-nameplate, de-numero, de-hometown address.
Antiseptic ang atmosphere, streamlined yet.
Kung hindi catacomb, at least
E filing cabinet.
Filing, hindi naman deaths, ha.
Remembrances, oo. Yung medyo malapot
Dahil alam mo na, I’m quitting the place
After two and a half years.
After two and a half years,
Di man nagkatiyempong mag-ugat, ika nga,
Siyempre’y nagging attached, parang morning glory’ng
Mahirap mapaknit sa alambreng trellis.
At pagkabukas ko sa kuwarto,
Hubo’t hubad na ang mattresses,
Wala nang kutson sa easy chair,
Mga drawer ng bureau’y nakanganga,
Sabay-sabay nag-ooration,
Nagkahiyaan, nabara.
Of course, tuloy ang radiator sa paggaralgal:
Nasa New York na si Bob and the two Allans,
Yung mga quarterbacks across the hall
Pihadong panay ang display sa Des Moines.
Don ang Cosntance aren’t coming back at all.
Gusto ko nang magpaalam–
to whom?
The drapes? The washbowl? Sa double-decker
Na pinaikot-ikot naming ni Kandaswamy
To create space, hopeless, talagang impossible.
Of course, tuloy ang radiator sa paglagutok.
(And the stone silence,
nakakaiyak kung sumagot.)
Bueno, let’s get it over with.
It’s a long walk to the depot.
Tama na ang sophistication-sophistication.
Sa steep incline, pababa sa highway
Where all things level, sabi nga,
There’s a flurry, ang gentle-gentle.
Pagwhoosh-whoosh ng paa ko,
The snow melts right under:
Nagtutubig parang asukal,
Humuhulas,
nagsesentimental.
-Rolando Tinio
http://isaganicruz.wordpress.com/2009/03/07/rolando-tinios-valediction-sa-hillcrest/
Pagkacollect ng Railway Express sa aking things
(Deretso na iyon sa barko while I take the plane.)
Inakyat kong muli ang N-311, at dahil dead of winter,
Nakatopcoat at galoshes akong
Nagright-turn sa N wing ng mahabang dilim
(Tunnel yatang aabot hanggang Tundo.)
Kinapa ko ang switch sa hall.
Sa isang pitik, nagshrink ang imaginary tunnel,
Nagparang ataol.
Or catacomb.
Strangely absolute ang impression
Ng hilera ng mga pintong nagpuprusisyon:
Individual identification, parang mummy cases,
De-nameplate, de-numero, de-hometown address.
Antiseptic ang atmosphere, streamlined yet.
Kung hindi catacomb, at least
E filing cabinet.
Filing, hindi naman deaths, ha.
Remembrances, oo. Yung medyo malapot
Dahil alam mo na, I’m quitting the place
After two and a half years.
After two and a half years,
Di man nagkatiyempong mag-ugat, ika nga,
Siyempre’y nagging attached, parang morning glory’ng
Mahirap mapaknit sa alambreng trellis.
At pagkabukas ko sa kuwarto,
Hubo’t hubad na ang mattresses,
Wala nang kutson sa easy chair,
Mga drawer ng bureau’y nakanganga,
Sabay-sabay nag-ooration,
Nagkahiyaan, nabara.
Of course, tuloy ang radiator sa paggaralgal:
Nasa New York na si Bob and the two Allans,
Yung mga quarterbacks across the hall
Pihadong panay ang display sa Des Moines.
Don ang Cosntance aren’t coming back at all.
Gusto ko nang magpaalam–
to whom?
The drapes? The washbowl? Sa double-decker
Na pinaikot-ikot naming ni Kandaswamy
To create space, hopeless, talagang impossible.
Of course, tuloy ang radiator sa paglagutok.
(And the stone silence,
nakakaiyak kung sumagot.)
Bueno, let’s get it over with.
It’s a long walk to the depot.
Tama na ang sophistication-sophistication.
Sa steep incline, pababa sa highway
Where all things level, sabi nga,
There’s a flurry, ang gentle-gentle.
Pagwhoosh-whoosh ng paa ko,
The snow melts right under:
Nagtutubig parang asukal,
Humuhulas,
nagsesentimental.
-Rolando Tinio
http://isaganicruz.wordpress.com/2009/03/07/rolando-tinios-valediction-sa-hillcrest/
MORNING IN MAGREBCAN
MORNING IN NAGREBCAN
It was sunrise at Nagrebcan. The fine, bluish mist, low over the tobacco fields, was lifting and thinning moment by moment. A ragged strip of mist, pulled away by the morning breeze, had caught on the clumps of bamboo along the banks of the stream that flowed to one side of the barrio. Before long the sun would top the Katayaghan hills, but as yet no people were around. In the grey shadow of the hills, the barrio was gradually awaking. Roosters crowed and strutted on the ground while hens hesitated on theri perches among the branches of the camanchile trees. Stray goats nibbled the weeds on the sides of the road, and the bull carabaos tugged restively against their stakes.
In the early mornig the puppies lay curled up together between their mother’s paws under the ladder of the house. Four puupies were all white like the mother. They had pink noses and pink eyelids and pink mouths. The skin between their toes and on the inside of their large, limp ears was pink. They had short sleek hair, for the mother licked them often. The fifth puppy lay across the mother’s neck. On the puppy’s back was a big black spot like a saddle. The tips of its ears were black and so was a pitch of hair on its chest.
The opening of the sawali door, its uneven bottom dragging noisily against the bamboo flooring, aroused the mother dog and she got up and stretched and shook herself, scattering dust and loose white hair. A rank doggy smell rose in the cool morning air. She took a quick leap forward, clearing the puppies which had begun to whine about her, wanting to suckle. She trotted away and disappeared beyond the house of a neighbor.
The puppies sat back on their rumps, whining. After a little while they lay down and went back to sleep, the black-spotted puppy on top.
Baldo stood at the treshold and rubbed his sleep-heavy eyes with his fists. He must have been about ten yeras old, small for his age, but compactly built, and he stood straight on his bony legs. He wore one of his father’s discarded cotton undershirts.
The boy descended the ladder, leaning heavily on the single bamboo railing that served as a banister. He sat on the lowest step of the ladder, yawning and rubbing his eyes one after the other. Bending down, he reached between his legs for the blak-spotted puppy. He held it to him, stroking its soft, warm body. He blew on its nose. The puppy stuck out a small red tongue,lapping the air. It whined eagerly. Baldo laughed—a low gurgle.
He rubbed his face against that of the dog. He said softly. “My puppy. My puppy.” He said it many times. The puppy licked his ears, his cheeks. When it licked his mouth. Baldo straightened up, raised the puppy on a level with his eyes. “You are a foolish puppy” he said, laughing. “Foolish, foolish, foolish,” he said, rolling the puppy on his lap so that it howled.
The four other puppies awoke and came scrambling about Baldo’s legs. He put down the black-spotted puppy and ran to the narrow foot bridge of women split-bamboo spanning the roadside ditch. When it rained, water from the roadway flowed under the makeshift bridge, but it had not rained for a long time and the ground was dry and sandy. Baldo sat on the bridge, digging his bare feet into the sand, feeling the cool particles escaping between his toes. He whistled, a toneless whistle with a curious trilling to it produced by placing the tongue against the lower teeth and then curving it up and down. The whistle excited the puppies, they ran to the boy as fast theri unsteady legs could carry them, barking choppy little barks.
It was sunrise at Nagrebcan. The fine, bluish mist, low over the tobacco fields, was lifting and thinning moment by moment. A ragged strip of mist, pulled away by the morning breeze, had caught on the clumps of bamboo along the banks of the stream that flowed to one side of the barrio. Before long the sun would top the Katayaghan hills, but as yet no people were around. In the grey shadow of the hills, the barrio was gradually awaking. Roosters crowed and strutted on the ground while hens hesitated on theri perches among the branches of the camanchile trees. Stray goats nibbled the weeds on the sides of the road, and the bull carabaos tugged restively against their stakes.
In the early mornig the puppies lay curled up together between their mother’s paws under the ladder of the house. Four puupies were all white like the mother. They had pink noses and pink eyelids and pink mouths. The skin between their toes and on the inside of their large, limp ears was pink. They had short sleek hair, for the mother licked them often. The fifth puppy lay across the mother’s neck. On the puppy’s back was a big black spot like a saddle. The tips of its ears were black and so was a pitch of hair on its chest.
The opening of the sawali door, its uneven bottom dragging noisily against the bamboo flooring, aroused the mother dog and she got up and stretched and shook herself, scattering dust and loose white hair. A rank doggy smell rose in the cool morning air. She took a quick leap forward, clearing the puppies which had begun to whine about her, wanting to suckle. She trotted away and disappeared beyond the house of a neighbor.
The puppies sat back on their rumps, whining. After a little while they lay down and went back to sleep, the black-spotted puppy on top.
Baldo stood at the treshold and rubbed his sleep-heavy eyes with his fists. He must have been about ten yeras old, small for his age, but compactly built, and he stood straight on his bony legs. He wore one of his father’s discarded cotton undershirts.
The boy descended the ladder, leaning heavily on the single bamboo railing that served as a banister. He sat on the lowest step of the ladder, yawning and rubbing his eyes one after the other. Bending down, he reached between his legs for the blak-spotted puppy. He held it to him, stroking its soft, warm body. He blew on its nose. The puppy stuck out a small red tongue,lapping the air. It whined eagerly. Baldo laughed—a low gurgle.
He rubbed his face against that of the dog. He said softly. “My puppy. My puppy.” He said it many times. The puppy licked his ears, his cheeks. When it licked his mouth. Baldo straightened up, raised the puppy on a level with his eyes. “You are a foolish puppy” he said, laughing. “Foolish, foolish, foolish,” he said, rolling the puppy on his lap so that it howled.
The four other puppies awoke and came scrambling about Baldo’s legs. He put down the black-spotted puppy and ran to the narrow foot bridge of women split-bamboo spanning the roadside ditch. When it rained, water from the roadway flowed under the makeshift bridge, but it had not rained for a long time and the ground was dry and sandy. Baldo sat on the bridge, digging his bare feet into the sand, feeling the cool particles escaping between his toes. He whistled, a toneless whistle with a curious trilling to it produced by placing the tongue against the lower teeth and then curving it up and down. The whistle excited the puppies, they ran to the boy as fast theri unsteady legs could carry them, barking choppy little barks.
http://www.scribd.com/doc/34536551/Morning-in-Nagrebcan-Manuel-E-Arguilla
It was sunrise at Nagrebcan. The fine, bluish mist, low over the tobacco fields, was lifting and thinning moment by moment. A ragged strip of mist, pulled away by the morning breeze, had caught on the clumps of bamboo along the banks of the stream that flowed to one side of the barrio. Before long the sun would top the Katayaghan hills, but as yet no people were around. In the grey shadow of the hills, the barrio was gradually awaking. Roosters crowed and strutted on the ground while hens hesitated on theri perches among the branches of the camanchile trees. Stray goats nibbled the weeds on the sides of the road, and the bull carabaos tugged restively against their stakes.
In the early mornig the puppies lay curled up together between their mother’s paws under the ladder of the house. Four puupies were all white like the mother. They had pink noses and pink eyelids and pink mouths. The skin between their toes and on the inside of their large, limp ears was pink. They had short sleek hair, for the mother licked them often. The fifth puppy lay across the mother’s neck. On the puppy’s back was a big black spot like a saddle. The tips of its ears were black and so was a pitch of hair on its chest.
The opening of the sawali door, its uneven bottom dragging noisily against the bamboo flooring, aroused the mother dog and she got up and stretched and shook herself, scattering dust and loose white hair. A rank doggy smell rose in the cool morning air. She took a quick leap forward, clearing the puppies which had begun to whine about her, wanting to suckle. She trotted away and disappeared beyond the house of a neighbor.
The puppies sat back on their rumps, whining. After a little while they lay down and went back to sleep, the black-spotted puppy on top.
Baldo stood at the treshold and rubbed his sleep-heavy eyes with his fists. He must have been about ten yeras old, small for his age, but compactly built, and he stood straight on his bony legs. He wore one of his father’s discarded cotton undershirts.
The boy descended the ladder, leaning heavily on the single bamboo railing that served as a banister. He sat on the lowest step of the ladder, yawning and rubbing his eyes one after the other. Bending down, he reached between his legs for the blak-spotted puppy. He held it to him, stroking its soft, warm body. He blew on its nose. The puppy stuck out a small red tongue,lapping the air. It whined eagerly. Baldo laughed—a low gurgle.
He rubbed his face against that of the dog. He said softly. “My puppy. My puppy.” He said it many times. The puppy licked his ears, his cheeks. When it licked his mouth. Baldo straightened up, raised the puppy on a level with his eyes. “You are a foolish puppy” he said, laughing. “Foolish, foolish, foolish,” he said, rolling the puppy on his lap so that it howled.
The four other puppies awoke and came scrambling about Baldo’s legs. He put down the black-spotted puppy and ran to the narrow foot bridge of women split-bamboo spanning the roadside ditch. When it rained, water from the roadway flowed under the makeshift bridge, but it had not rained for a long time and the ground was dry and sandy. Baldo sat on the bridge, digging his bare feet into the sand, feeling the cool particles escaping between his toes. He whistled, a toneless whistle with a curious trilling to it produced by placing the tongue against the lower teeth and then curving it up and down. The whistle excited the puppies, they ran to the boy as fast theri unsteady legs could carry them, barking choppy little barks.
It was sunrise at Nagrebcan. The fine, bluish mist, low over the tobacco fields, was lifting and thinning moment by moment. A ragged strip of mist, pulled away by the morning breeze, had caught on the clumps of bamboo along the banks of the stream that flowed to one side of the barrio. Before long the sun would top the Katayaghan hills, but as yet no people were around. In the grey shadow of the hills, the barrio was gradually awaking. Roosters crowed and strutted on the ground while hens hesitated on theri perches among the branches of the camanchile trees. Stray goats nibbled the weeds on the sides of the road, and the bull carabaos tugged restively against their stakes.
In the early mornig the puppies lay curled up together between their mother’s paws under the ladder of the house. Four puupies were all white like the mother. They had pink noses and pink eyelids and pink mouths. The skin between their toes and on the inside of their large, limp ears was pink. They had short sleek hair, for the mother licked them often. The fifth puppy lay across the mother’s neck. On the puppy’s back was a big black spot like a saddle. The tips of its ears were black and so was a pitch of hair on its chest.
The opening of the sawali door, its uneven bottom dragging noisily against the bamboo flooring, aroused the mother dog and she got up and stretched and shook herself, scattering dust and loose white hair. A rank doggy smell rose in the cool morning air. She took a quick leap forward, clearing the puppies which had begun to whine about her, wanting to suckle. She trotted away and disappeared beyond the house of a neighbor.
The puppies sat back on their rumps, whining. After a little while they lay down and went back to sleep, the black-spotted puppy on top.
Baldo stood at the treshold and rubbed his sleep-heavy eyes with his fists. He must have been about ten yeras old, small for his age, but compactly built, and he stood straight on his bony legs. He wore one of his father’s discarded cotton undershirts.
The boy descended the ladder, leaning heavily on the single bamboo railing that served as a banister. He sat on the lowest step of the ladder, yawning and rubbing his eyes one after the other. Bending down, he reached between his legs for the blak-spotted puppy. He held it to him, stroking its soft, warm body. He blew on its nose. The puppy stuck out a small red tongue,lapping the air. It whined eagerly. Baldo laughed—a low gurgle.
He rubbed his face against that of the dog. He said softly. “My puppy. My puppy.” He said it many times. The puppy licked his ears, his cheeks. When it licked his mouth. Baldo straightened up, raised the puppy on a level with his eyes. “You are a foolish puppy” he said, laughing. “Foolish, foolish, foolish,” he said, rolling the puppy on his lap so that it howled.
The four other puppies awoke and came scrambling about Baldo’s legs. He put down the black-spotted puppy and ran to the narrow foot bridge of women split-bamboo spanning the roadside ditch. When it rained, water from the roadway flowed under the makeshift bridge, but it had not rained for a long time and the ground was dry and sandy. Baldo sat on the bridge, digging his bare feet into the sand, feeling the cool particles escaping between his toes. He whistled, a toneless whistle with a curious trilling to it produced by placing the tongue against the lower teeth and then curving it up and down. The whistle excited the puppies, they ran to the boy as fast theri unsteady legs could carry them, barking choppy little barks.
http://www.scribd.com/doc/34536551/Morning-in-Nagrebcan-Manuel-E-Arguilla
GAHASA
Ihanda ang mga ebidensya
Eksibit blg.1: baril
o kahit na anong sandata
patunay ng pagbabanta
Eksibit blg.2: panti na may mantsa
patunay ng kabirhenan ng dalaga
Eksibit blg.3: sertipikasyon ng doktor
Patunay na--
a: sapilitan
b: lubusan
ang pagpasok ng ari
Eksibit blg.4: sertipikasyon ng pagkatao
patunay ng hindi pagiging puta
Ipasok sa hukuman ang nasasakdal
Iharap sa hukuman ang nagsasakdal
Simulan ang panggagahasa
upbreadings.blogspot.com/2010/07/gahasa-by-joi-barrios.html
Eksibit blg.1: baril
o kahit na anong sandata
patunay ng pagbabanta
Eksibit blg.2: panti na may mantsa
patunay ng kabirhenan ng dalaga
Eksibit blg.3: sertipikasyon ng doktor
Patunay na--
a: sapilitan
b: lubusan
ang pagpasok ng ari
Eksibit blg.4: sertipikasyon ng pagkatao
patunay ng hindi pagiging puta
Ipasok sa hukuman ang nasasakdal
Iharap sa hukuman ang nagsasakdal
Simulan ang panggagahasa
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
THE WAY WE LIVE
Danton Remoto
Bang the drum, baby,
let us roll tremors
of sound to wake
the Lord God of motion
sleeping under the skin.
Of choosing what to wear
this Saturday night:
cool, sexy black
or simply fuck-me red?
Should I gel my hair
or let it fall like water?
Of sitting on the sad
and beautiful face of James Dean
while listening to reggae
at Blue Café.
Of chatting with friends
at The Library
while Allan Shimmers
with his sequins and wit.
Of listening to stories at Cine Café:
the first eye-contact,
conversations glowing
in the night,
lips and fingers touching,
groping for each other’s loneliness.
Of driving home
under the flyover’s dark wings
(a blackout once again plunges
the city to darkness)
Summer’s thunder
lighting up the sky
oh heat thick
as desire
Then suddenly the rain:
finally falling,
falling everywhere:
to let go, then,
to let go and to move on,
this is the way it seems
to be. Bang the drum, baby.
"THE REAL TREASURE"
(A REFLECTION ABOUT THE PHILIPPINE COLONIZATION)
"Heroes who make the Filipino as one, and absolutely make the whole world ---one".
Many things happened in this world everyday and everywhere which man cannot predict, we can only say "its God's will". Filipino experience so much pain under every colonizer. Pain which is not only felt by their skin but also felt by their heart. Wounds that result into a revenge and claim back our dear fatherland. The braveness, fearless, and intrepid courage are all passed through in every blood of every Filipino. Filipino people carried the dignity of our country until to their last breath. It is not enough to just remember their name because its also much more important to remember what they have done. We should be thankful in every right we used to exercise in today's generation. Philippines are blessed to have a citizens who are willing to sacrifice their own life. Filipino brings our national flag on the top of the world for having an undisputed solid patriotism.
May bagyo ma't may rilim, Mi Ultimo adios, and katapusang hibik ng pilipinas are just 3 of those poem which is the product of Spanish colonization era. It described the confidence, strength, and hope of our country. It is a document which described the sufferings of the Filipino people, from the time that they losing their faith to the time the they find their chances. Chances that give them new faith, faith that can help them to survive. May Day Eve, Zita, and the happy hoi polloi, are just 3 of those reflection of how Filipinos escaped from the hardship under us colonization. The story of fantasy and happiness described the aiming of the Filipino to have a better life. Their experiences in surviving help them, to continue to live under the hands of Americans. The great will to surpassed all these trials are always in their heart. Because they always believed in one thing, and they always look above for him. Holy is the Lord, King of Glory, forever savior of the world.
In our modern day today, we almost adopt the latest, trendiest, and the most popular things we've seen and encountered with. Everything changes and continue to changes. I as a student, hoping that one thing won't change, and this is the love for those people who fought for our democracy. For me, Jose Rizal is not just only our national hero, but it is all Filipino who sacrificed their life to redeem our democracy, for all who wish to end every depression under every colonizer. For all who hoped to end the tearful supplication under Marcos dictatorship. For all who find that their right are being violated, They are all my national heroes. Filipino who are brave enough just to prove to the world that "WE CAN". We can stand as one, we can governed as one, that we can begin again. National heroes who carry our flag on the top of the world. Who are confident to introduced the personality of the Filipino citizen. Many blood splash out, many life are lost, now is the time for us to continue to prove that "WE CAN", now is the time to show our debt that we cared for. Let us continue the battle begin by our heroes. We have what we have now because of them. They are the real treasures of this loving country.
"We may not know the dignity of their birth but at least we know the glory of their death."
"Heroes who make the Filipino as one, and absolutely make the whole world ---one".
Many things happened in this world everyday and everywhere which man cannot predict, we can only say "its God's will". Filipino experience so much pain under every colonizer. Pain which is not only felt by their skin but also felt by their heart. Wounds that result into a revenge and claim back our dear fatherland. The braveness, fearless, and intrepid courage are all passed through in every blood of every Filipino. Filipino people carried the dignity of our country until to their last breath. It is not enough to just remember their name because its also much more important to remember what they have done. We should be thankful in every right we used to exercise in today's generation. Philippines are blessed to have a citizens who are willing to sacrifice their own life. Filipino brings our national flag on the top of the world for having an undisputed solid patriotism.
May bagyo ma't may rilim, Mi Ultimo adios, and katapusang hibik ng pilipinas are just 3 of those poem which is the product of Spanish colonization era. It described the confidence, strength, and hope of our country. It is a document which described the sufferings of the Filipino people, from the time that they losing their faith to the time the they find their chances. Chances that give them new faith, faith that can help them to survive. May Day Eve, Zita, and the happy hoi polloi, are just 3 of those reflection of how Filipinos escaped from the hardship under us colonization. The story of fantasy and happiness described the aiming of the Filipino to have a better life. Their experiences in surviving help them, to continue to live under the hands of Americans. The great will to surpassed all these trials are always in their heart. Because they always believed in one thing, and they always look above for him. Holy is the Lord, King of Glory, forever savior of the world.
In our modern day today, we almost adopt the latest, trendiest, and the most popular things we've seen and encountered with. Everything changes and continue to changes. I as a student, hoping that one thing won't change, and this is the love for those people who fought for our democracy. For me, Jose Rizal is not just only our national hero, but it is all Filipino who sacrificed their life to redeem our democracy, for all who wish to end every depression under every colonizer. For all who hoped to end the tearful supplication under Marcos dictatorship. For all who find that their right are being violated, They are all my national heroes. Filipino who are brave enough just to prove to the world that "WE CAN". We can stand as one, we can governed as one, that we can begin again. National heroes who carry our flag on the top of the world. Who are confident to introduced the personality of the Filipino citizen. Many blood splash out, many life are lost, now is the time for us to continue to prove that "WE CAN", now is the time to show our debt that we cared for. Let us continue the battle begin by our heroes. We have what we have now because of them. They are the real treasures of this loving country.
"We may not know the dignity of their birth but at least we know the glory of their death."
Sunday, February 20, 2011
BIAG NI LAM-ANG
The story dates its origin during the pre-Spanish period of the Philipines. It is one of the greatest Ilocano epic of the pre-colonial literature of the country. It is originally written in the Ilocano language but as time goes it has been translated to different languages. The story is set in the Northern Provinces of the Philippines. The story is a mix of adventure and romance with exciting and unpredictable outcomes. The story revolves around Lam-ang who is a very extraordinary guy. He started to talk at a very young age and was the one who choose his own name. His adventure began when his father, Don Juan, went to a battle but never came back. At the age of barely nine months he went to search for his father in the highlands where his father was said to go. Knowing that he is blessed with extraordinary well being, her mother, Namongan, allowed her to go. Lam-ang then went of to search for his father leaving his grieving mother. When Lam-ang reached the place, he was enraged upon seeing his father’s head on top of a bamboo pole that was stuck in the ground which was a scene that he had dreamed before reaching the place. Lam-ang then demanded to know the reason why did that happen to his father but he did not receive an answer, instead he was demanded by the chieftain of the village to go or else he would receive the same faith like his father. Instead of running Lam-ang bravely fought with the chieftain and its tribesmen. Lam-ang won the fight with less effort that serves as his revenge for his father. The epic poem also presented some humorous points. As Lam-ang was on his way home he passed by a river and then decided to have a dip. The dirt from his body caused the death of fishes, crabs, shrimps in the river. She was gladly attended by some of the women who saw him. Lam-ang upon reaching home decided to court his love interest, Ines. Despite his mother’s disapproval he followed his heart and set again another journey for her love. His adventures had never been that easy. He faced one of Ines’ suitor and monsters. But he won the battles with ease. Upon reaching the place, Lam-ang drew the attention of many and impressed Ines. He was helped by his magical pets: a rooster, a hen and a dog. Lam-ang’s rooster flapped its wings and a house toppled. This amazed everybody, especially Ines. Then, Lam-ang’s dog barked and the house aroused. Being invited in the lunch of the family of Ines, Lam-ang impressed Ines’ parents with his wealth and upon returning he gave to the family two golden ships. Their wedding was held with a lot of feastings. However Lam-ang’s story never ended there. He was sent to catch a gigantic shell but unfortunately she was swallowed by a shark, which he had earlier premonitioned. Her bones were recovered and Lam-ang was resurrected with the help of his magical pet. Ines was ordered by the rooster to wrap the bones with her tapis while the hen flaps its wings and the dog growling. In an instant Lam-ang happily rejoined his wife. The epic poem showed some of the earlier customs, culture, tradition and belief of the Ilocano people of the Philippines The story presented some of the qualities of the people of the Ilocos region- adventurous, hardy, and brave as strongly portrayed by Lam-ang. The epic poem presented the fact that life is full of trials and problems. One must be strong and just accept the reality that it is already part of life.
http://www.shvoong.com/books/classic-literature/1748792-biag-ni-lam-ang-life/
http://www.shvoong.com/books/classic-literature/1748792-biag-ni-lam-ang-life/
AKO ANG DAIGDIG
I
ako
ang daigdig
ako
ang tula
ako
ang daigdig
ng tula
ang tula
ng daigdig
ako
ang walang maliw na ako
ang walang kamatayang ako
ang tula ng daigdig
II
ako
ang daigdig ng tula
ako
ang tula ng daigdig
ako ang malayang ako
matapat sa sarili
sa aking daigdig
ng tula
ako
ang tula
sa daidig
ako
ang daigdig
ng tula
ako
III
ako
ang damdaming
malaya
ako
ang larawang
buhay
ako
ang buhay
na walang hanggan
ako
ang damdamin
ang larawan
ang buhay
damdamin
larawan
buhay
tula
ako
IV
ako
ang daigdig
sa tula
ako
ang tula
sa daigdig
ako
ang daigdig
ako
ang tula
daigdig
tula
ako….
http://nab-angel.blog.friendster.com/2005/07/ako-ang-daigdigni-alejandro-g-abadilla/
ako
ang daigdig
ako
ang tula
ako
ang daigdig
ng tula
ang tula
ng daigdig
ako
ang walang maliw na ako
ang walang kamatayang ako
ang tula ng daigdig
II
ako
ang daigdig ng tula
ako
ang tula ng daigdig
ako ang malayang ako
matapat sa sarili
sa aking daigdig
ng tula
ako
ang tula
sa daidig
ako
ang daigdig
ng tula
ako
III
ako
ang damdaming
malaya
ako
ang larawang
buhay
ako
ang buhay
na walang hanggan
ako
ang damdamin
ang larawan
ang buhay
damdamin
larawan
buhay
tula
ako
IV
ako
ang daigdig
sa tula
ako
ang tula
sa daigdig
ako
ang daigdig
ako
ang tula
daigdig
tula
ako….
http://nab-angel.blog.friendster.com/2005/07/ako-ang-daigdigni-alejandro-g-abadilla/
ANG MGA KAGILAGILALAS NA PAKIKIPAGSAPALARAN NI JUAN DELA CRUZ
Ang mga KAGILA-GILALAS na
PAKIKIPAGSAPALARAN ni JUAN dela CRUZ
ni Jose F. Lacaba
Isang gabing madilim
puno ng pangambang sumakay sa bus
si Juan de la Cruz
pusturang-pustura
kahit walang laman ang bulsa
BAWAL MANIGARILYO BOSS
sabi ng konduktora
at minura
si Juan de la Cruz.
Pusturang-pustura
kahit walang laman ang bulsa
nilakad ni Juan de la Cruz
ang buong Avenida
BAWAL PUMARADA
sabi ng kalsada
BAWAL UMIHI DITO
sabi ng bakod
kaya napagod
si Juan de la Cruz.
Nang abutan ng gutom
si Juan de la Cruz
tumapat sa Ma Mon Luk
inamoy ang mami siopao lumpia pansit
hanggang sa mabusog.
Nagdaan sa Sine Dalisay
Tinitigan ang retrato ni Chichay
PASSES NOT HONORED TODAY
sabi ng takilyera
tawa nang tawa.
Dumalaw sa Konggreso
si Juan de la Cruz
MAG-INGAT SA ASO
sabi ng diputado
Nagtuloy sa Malakanyang
wala naming dalang kamanyang
KEEP OFF THE GRASS
sabi ng hardinero
sabi ng sundalo
kay Juan de la Cruz.
Nang dapuan ng libog
si Juan de la Cruz
namasyal sa Culiculi
at nahulog sa pusali
parang espadang bali-bali
YOUR CREDIT IS GOOD BUT WE NEED CASH
sabi ng bugaw
sabay higop ng sabaw.
Pusturang-pustura
Kahit walang laman ang bulsa
naglibot sa Dewey
si Juan de la Cruz
PAN-AM BAYSIDE SAVOY THEY SATISFY
sabi ng neon.
Humikab ang dagat na parang leon
masarap sanang tumalon pero
BAWAL MAGTAPON NG BASURA
sabi ng alon.
Nagbalik sa Quiapo
si Juan de la Cruz
at medyo kinakabahan
pumasok sa simbahan
IN GOD WE TRUST
sabi ng Obispo
ALL OTHERS PAY CASH.
Nang wala nang malunok
si Juan de la Cruz
dala-dala'y gulok
gula-gulanit na ang damit
wala pa ring laman ang bulsa
umakyat
sa Arayat
ang namayat
na si Juan de la Cruz.
WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE
sabi ng PC
at sinisi
ang walanghiyang kabataan
kung bakit sinulsulan
ang isang tahimik na mamamayan
na tulad ni Juan de la Cruz
http://upreplib.tripod.com/kagilagilalas.htm
PAKIKIPAGSAPALARAN ni JUAN dela CRUZ
ni Jose F. Lacaba
Isang gabing madilim
puno ng pangambang sumakay sa bus
si Juan de la Cruz
pusturang-pustura
kahit walang laman ang bulsa
BAWAL MANIGARILYO BOSS
sabi ng konduktora
at minura
si Juan de la Cruz.
Pusturang-pustura
kahit walang laman ang bulsa
nilakad ni Juan de la Cruz
ang buong Avenida
BAWAL PUMARADA
sabi ng kalsada
BAWAL UMIHI DITO
sabi ng bakod
kaya napagod
si Juan de la Cruz.
Nang abutan ng gutom
si Juan de la Cruz
tumapat sa Ma Mon Luk
inamoy ang mami siopao lumpia pansit
hanggang sa mabusog.
Nagdaan sa Sine Dalisay
Tinitigan ang retrato ni Chichay
PASSES NOT HONORED TODAY
sabi ng takilyera
tawa nang tawa.
Dumalaw sa Konggreso
si Juan de la Cruz
MAG-INGAT SA ASO
sabi ng diputado
Nagtuloy sa Malakanyang
wala naming dalang kamanyang
KEEP OFF THE GRASS
sabi ng hardinero
sabi ng sundalo
kay Juan de la Cruz.
Nang dapuan ng libog
si Juan de la Cruz
namasyal sa Culiculi
at nahulog sa pusali
parang espadang bali-bali
YOUR CREDIT IS GOOD BUT WE NEED CASH
sabi ng bugaw
sabay higop ng sabaw.
Pusturang-pustura
Kahit walang laman ang bulsa
naglibot sa Dewey
si Juan de la Cruz
PAN-AM BAYSIDE SAVOY THEY SATISFY
sabi ng neon.
Humikab ang dagat na parang leon
masarap sanang tumalon pero
BAWAL MAGTAPON NG BASURA
sabi ng alon.
Nagbalik sa Quiapo
si Juan de la Cruz
at medyo kinakabahan
pumasok sa simbahan
IN GOD WE TRUST
sabi ng Obispo
ALL OTHERS PAY CASH.
Nang wala nang malunok
si Juan de la Cruz
dala-dala'y gulok
gula-gulanit na ang damit
wala pa ring laman ang bulsa
umakyat
sa Arayat
ang namayat
na si Juan de la Cruz.
WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE
sabi ng PC
at sinisi
ang walanghiyang kabataan
kung bakit sinulsulan
ang isang tahimik na mamamayan
na tulad ni Juan de la Cruz
http://upreplib.tripod.com/kagilagilalas.htm
REGLA SA BUWAN NG HUNYO
RegLa sa BuwaN ng hunYo (R. MabangLo)
Pagbigyan ang pwersang ito:
lakas na umaahon sa sinapupunan,
init na sumusubo, dumadaloy, umiigkas,
kusang lumalaya't lumalayaw
kahit na sinusupil,
dumadanak at bumabakas
hatdan man ng hilahil.
Pagbigyan ang pwersang ito--
ito:
kabuuan ng lahat kong pagkatao,
kabuuan ng kaibhan ko't pagkakatulad
sa lahat ng tao,
kabuuan ng naimpok kong alaala't
ginagastang kasalukuyan
kabuuan ng kinabukasang isinasanla
sa kalendaryo.
Pagbigyan ang pwersang ito--
hayaang magmapa sa talaan
ng utang ko't pautang,
hayaang maglimbag ng sagutin ko't
pananagutan:
sa sarili, sa angkan at sa lipunan:
hayaang magbadya
ng karaingan ko't pangangailangan,
ngayon,
habang nilalason ng maraming kabaro
ang itlog at semilya
at binubulok naman ng iba
sa sansupot na goma
ang bunga ng pag-ibig at pagtatalik.
Ay, anong kilusan, martsa't litanya
upang mapuksa ang sanggol
nang buong laya?
Ilang liblib na klinika, basurahan at
kubeta
ang pag-iimbakan ng kapusuka't sala?
Kahit ang ampunang nagbobodega
ng pananagutang itinatwa
may sumbat ng kalikasang
di matatakasan.
Pagbigyan ang pwersang ito--
ismiran ang humuhugot na kirot,
batahin ang hagupit
habang tinatanggap, tinatanggap
ang katuturang
pumapaso sa pagtigmak.
Ito ang pagtagay sa Hunyo
sa kalis ko--
nobya,
asawa,
kerida,
o kahit ng bayarang tagapagpaligaya:
ito ang testamento, ang kontrata, ang
sumpa:
ito ang saligan,
ang kahulugan at kahungkagan
ng buhay at pag-iral.
Pagbigyan,
ito,
ang agos ng madlang pagsulong--
hininga ng pag-asa
ang namimilapil dito.
http://www2.hawaii.edu/~mabanglo/about.htm
Pagbigyan ang pwersang ito:
lakas na umaahon sa sinapupunan,
init na sumusubo, dumadaloy, umiigkas,
kusang lumalaya't lumalayaw
kahit na sinusupil,
dumadanak at bumabakas
hatdan man ng hilahil.
Pagbigyan ang pwersang ito--
ito:
kabuuan ng lahat kong pagkatao,
kabuuan ng kaibhan ko't pagkakatulad
sa lahat ng tao,
kabuuan ng naimpok kong alaala't
ginagastang kasalukuyan
kabuuan ng kinabukasang isinasanla
sa kalendaryo.
Pagbigyan ang pwersang ito--
hayaang magmapa sa talaan
ng utang ko't pautang,
hayaang maglimbag ng sagutin ko't
pananagutan:
sa sarili, sa angkan at sa lipunan:
hayaang magbadya
ng karaingan ko't pangangailangan,
ngayon,
habang nilalason ng maraming kabaro
ang itlog at semilya
at binubulok naman ng iba
sa sansupot na goma
ang bunga ng pag-ibig at pagtatalik.
Ay, anong kilusan, martsa't litanya
upang mapuksa ang sanggol
nang buong laya?
Ilang liblib na klinika, basurahan at
kubeta
ang pag-iimbakan ng kapusuka't sala?
Kahit ang ampunang nagbobodega
ng pananagutang itinatwa
may sumbat ng kalikasang
di matatakasan.
Pagbigyan ang pwersang ito--
ismiran ang humuhugot na kirot,
batahin ang hagupit
habang tinatanggap, tinatanggap
ang katuturang
pumapaso sa pagtigmak.
Ito ang pagtagay sa Hunyo
sa kalis ko--
nobya,
asawa,
kerida,
o kahit ng bayarang tagapagpaligaya:
ito ang testamento, ang kontrata, ang
sumpa:
ito ang saligan,
ang kahulugan at kahungkagan
ng buhay at pag-iral.
Pagbigyan,
ito,
ang agos ng madlang pagsulong--
hininga ng pag-asa
ang namimilapil dito.
http://www2.hawaii.edu/~mabanglo/about.htm
INDRAPATRA AT SULAYMAN
Indarapatra and Sulayman
this epic was all about the fight of King Indarapatra's brother Sulayman,to the monsters. And this is the except of the epic:
A long, long time ago, Mindanao was covered with water, and the sea cover all the lowlands so that nothing could be seen but the mountains jutting from it. There were many people living in the country and all the highlands were dotted with villages and settlements. For many years the people prospered, living in peace and contentment. Suddenly there appeared in the land four horrible monsters which, in short time has devoured every human being they could find.
Kurita, a terrible creature with many limbs, lived partly on the land and partly on sea, but its favorite haunt was the mountain where the rattan palm grew; and here it brought utter destruction on every living thing. The second monster, Tarabusaw, an ugly creature in the form of a man, lived on Mt. Matutum, and far and wide from that place he devoured the people, laying waste the land. The third, an enormous bird called Pah, was so large that, when on the wing, it covered the sun and brought darkness to the earth. Its egg was as large as a house. Mt. Bita was its haunt; and there the only people who escaped its voracity were those who hid in the mountain caves. The fourth monster was also a dreadful bird, having seven heads and the power to see in all directions at the same time. Mt. Gurayan was its home and like the others, it wrought havoc to its region.
So great was the death and destruction caused by these terrible creatures that at length, the news spread even to the most distant lands - and all nations grieved to hear the sad fate of Mindanao.
Now far across the sea, in the land of the golden sunset, was a city so great that to look at its many people would injure the eyes of men. When tidings of these great disasters reached this distant city, the heart of King Indarapatra was filled with compassion, and he called his brother, Sulayman, and begged hem to save the land of Mindanao from the monsters.
Sulayman listened to the story and as heard it, was moved with pity. "I will go", zeal and enthusiasm adding to his strength, "and the land shall be avenged," said he.
King Indarapatra, proud of his brother's courage, gave him a ring and a sword as he wished him success and safety. Then he placed a young sapling by his window and said to Sulayman "By this tree I shall know your fate from the hour you depart from here, for if you live, it will live; but if you die, it will die also."
So Sulayman departed for Mindanao, and he neither waded nor used a boat, but went through the air and landed on the mountain where the rattan grew. There he stood on the summit and gazed about on all sides. He looked on the land and the villages, but he could see no living thing. And he was very sorrowful and cried out: "Alas, how pitiful and dreadful is this devastation."
No sooner had Sulayman uttered those words than the whole mountain began to move and then shook. Suddenly out of the ground came the horrible creature Kurita. It sprng at the man and sank its claws at his flesh. But, Sulayman knowing at once that this was the scourge of the land, drew his sword and cut Kurita to pieces.
Encourage by his first success, Sulayman went on to Mt. Matutum, where conditions were even worse. As he stood on the heights viewing the great devastation, there was a noise in the forest and a movement in the trees. With a loud yell, Tarabusaw forth leaped. For the moment they looked at each other, neither showing any sign of fear. Then Tarabusaw used all his powers to try to devour Sulayman, who fought back. For a long time, the battle continued, until at last, the monster fell exhausted to the ground and Sulayman killed him with his sword.
The nest place visited by Sulayman was Mt. Bita. Here havoc was present everywhere, and though he passed by many homes, he saw that not a single soul was left. As he walked, sudden darkness fell over the land, startling him. As he looked toward the sky he beheaded a great bird that swooped upon him. Immediately he struck, and the bird fell dead at his feet; but the wing fell on Sulayman and he was crushed.
Now at this very time King Indarapatra was sitting at his window, and looking out he saw the little tree wither and dry up.
"Alas!" he cried, "my brother is dead" and he wept bitterly.
Then although he was very sad, he was filled with a desire for revenge. Putting on his sword and belt, he started for Mindanao, in search for his brother.
He, too, traveled through the air with great speed until he came to the mountain where the rattan grew. There he looked about, awed at the great destruction, and when she saw the bones of Kurita he knew that his brother had been there. He went on till he came to Matutum, and when he saw the bones of Tarabusaw, he knew that this, too, was the work of Sulayman.
Still searching for his brother, he arrived at Mt. Bita, where the dead bird lay on the ground, and when he lifted the severed wing he beheld the bones of Sulayman with his sword biy his side. His grief now so overwhelmed Indarapatra that he wept for some time. Upon looking up, he beheld a small jar of water by his side. This, he knew had been sent from the heaven, and he poured the water over the bones, and Sulayman, came to life again. They greeted each other and talked animatedly for great length of time. Sulayman declared that he had not been dead but asleep, and their hearts were full of joy.
After some time Sulayman returned his distant home, but Indarapatra continued his journey to Mt. Gurayan where killed the dreadful bird with the seven heads. After these monsters had all been killed, peace and safety had been restored to the land: Indarapatra began searching everywhere to see if some of the people who hid in the earth were still alive.
One day, in the course of his search, he caught sight of a beautiful woman at a distance. When he hastened toward her she disappeared through a hole in the ground where she stood. Disappointed and tried, he sat down on a rock to rest when, looking about, he saw near him a pot uncooked rice with a big fire on the ground in front of it. This revived him and he proceeded to cook the rice. As he did so, however, he heard someone laugh near by, and turning he beheld an old woman watching him. As he greeted her, she drew near and talked to him while he ate the rice.
Of all the people in the land, the woman told him, only few were left, and they hid in a cave in the ground from whence they never ventured to come out. As for herself and her old husband, she went on, they had hidden in a hollow tree, and this they had never dared to leave until Sulayman killed the voracious bird Pah.
At Indarapatra's request, the old woman led him to one such cave. There he met the headmen with his family and some people. They all gathered about the stranger, asking many questions, for this was the first time they had heard about the death of the monsters. When they found out what Indarapatra had done for them, the headman gave his daughter to him in marriage, and she proved to be beautiful girl whom Indarapatra had seen at the mouth of the cave.
Then the people all came out of their hiding places and returned to their homes where they lived in peace and happiness. And the sea withdrew from the land and gave the lowlands to the people
http://kapitbisig.com/philippines/taga
this epic was all about the fight of King Indarapatra's brother Sulayman,to the monsters. And this is the except of the epic:
A long, long time ago, Mindanao was covered with water, and the sea cover all the lowlands so that nothing could be seen but the mountains jutting from it. There were many people living in the country and all the highlands were dotted with villages and settlements. For many years the people prospered, living in peace and contentment. Suddenly there appeared in the land four horrible monsters which, in short time has devoured every human being they could find.
Kurita, a terrible creature with many limbs, lived partly on the land and partly on sea, but its favorite haunt was the mountain where the rattan palm grew; and here it brought utter destruction on every living thing. The second monster, Tarabusaw, an ugly creature in the form of a man, lived on Mt. Matutum, and far and wide from that place he devoured the people, laying waste the land. The third, an enormous bird called Pah, was so large that, when on the wing, it covered the sun and brought darkness to the earth. Its egg was as large as a house. Mt. Bita was its haunt; and there the only people who escaped its voracity were those who hid in the mountain caves. The fourth monster was also a dreadful bird, having seven heads and the power to see in all directions at the same time. Mt. Gurayan was its home and like the others, it wrought havoc to its region.
So great was the death and destruction caused by these terrible creatures that at length, the news spread even to the most distant lands - and all nations grieved to hear the sad fate of Mindanao.
Now far across the sea, in the land of the golden sunset, was a city so great that to look at its many people would injure the eyes of men. When tidings of these great disasters reached this distant city, the heart of King Indarapatra was filled with compassion, and he called his brother, Sulayman, and begged hem to save the land of Mindanao from the monsters.
Sulayman listened to the story and as heard it, was moved with pity. "I will go", zeal and enthusiasm adding to his strength, "and the land shall be avenged," said he.
King Indarapatra, proud of his brother's courage, gave him a ring and a sword as he wished him success and safety. Then he placed a young sapling by his window and said to Sulayman "By this tree I shall know your fate from the hour you depart from here, for if you live, it will live; but if you die, it will die also."
So Sulayman departed for Mindanao, and he neither waded nor used a boat, but went through the air and landed on the mountain where the rattan grew. There he stood on the summit and gazed about on all sides. He looked on the land and the villages, but he could see no living thing. And he was very sorrowful and cried out: "Alas, how pitiful and dreadful is this devastation."
No sooner had Sulayman uttered those words than the whole mountain began to move and then shook. Suddenly out of the ground came the horrible creature Kurita. It sprng at the man and sank its claws at his flesh. But, Sulayman knowing at once that this was the scourge of the land, drew his sword and cut Kurita to pieces.
Encourage by his first success, Sulayman went on to Mt. Matutum, where conditions were even worse. As he stood on the heights viewing the great devastation, there was a noise in the forest and a movement in the trees. With a loud yell, Tarabusaw forth leaped. For the moment they looked at each other, neither showing any sign of fear. Then Tarabusaw used all his powers to try to devour Sulayman, who fought back. For a long time, the battle continued, until at last, the monster fell exhausted to the ground and Sulayman killed him with his sword.
The nest place visited by Sulayman was Mt. Bita. Here havoc was present everywhere, and though he passed by many homes, he saw that not a single soul was left. As he walked, sudden darkness fell over the land, startling him. As he looked toward the sky he beheaded a great bird that swooped upon him. Immediately he struck, and the bird fell dead at his feet; but the wing fell on Sulayman and he was crushed.
Now at this very time King Indarapatra was sitting at his window, and looking out he saw the little tree wither and dry up.
"Alas!" he cried, "my brother is dead" and he wept bitterly.
Then although he was very sad, he was filled with a desire for revenge. Putting on his sword and belt, he started for Mindanao, in search for his brother.
He, too, traveled through the air with great speed until he came to the mountain where the rattan grew. There he looked about, awed at the great destruction, and when she saw the bones of Kurita he knew that his brother had been there. He went on till he came to Matutum, and when he saw the bones of Tarabusaw, he knew that this, too, was the work of Sulayman.
Still searching for his brother, he arrived at Mt. Bita, where the dead bird lay on the ground, and when he lifted the severed wing he beheld the bones of Sulayman with his sword biy his side. His grief now so overwhelmed Indarapatra that he wept for some time. Upon looking up, he beheld a small jar of water by his side. This, he knew had been sent from the heaven, and he poured the water over the bones, and Sulayman, came to life again. They greeted each other and talked animatedly for great length of time. Sulayman declared that he had not been dead but asleep, and their hearts were full of joy.
After some time Sulayman returned his distant home, but Indarapatra continued his journey to Mt. Gurayan where killed the dreadful bird with the seven heads. After these monsters had all been killed, peace and safety had been restored to the land: Indarapatra began searching everywhere to see if some of the people who hid in the earth were still alive.
One day, in the course of his search, he caught sight of a beautiful woman at a distance. When he hastened toward her she disappeared through a hole in the ground where she stood. Disappointed and tried, he sat down on a rock to rest when, looking about, he saw near him a pot uncooked rice with a big fire on the ground in front of it. This revived him and he proceeded to cook the rice. As he did so, however, he heard someone laugh near by, and turning he beheld an old woman watching him. As he greeted her, she drew near and talked to him while he ate the rice.
Of all the people in the land, the woman told him, only few were left, and they hid in a cave in the ground from whence they never ventured to come out. As for herself and her old husband, she went on, they had hidden in a hollow tree, and this they had never dared to leave until Sulayman killed the voracious bird Pah.
At Indarapatra's request, the old woman led him to one such cave. There he met the headmen with his family and some people. They all gathered about the stranger, asking many questions, for this was the first time they had heard about the death of the monsters. When they found out what Indarapatra had done for them, the headman gave his daughter to him in marriage, and she proved to be beautiful girl whom Indarapatra had seen at the mouth of the cave.
Then the people all came out of their hiding places and returned to their homes where they lived in peace and happiness. And the sea withdrew from the land and gave the lowlands to the people
http://kapitbisig.com/philippines/taga
BULAG, PIPI, AT BINGI
Madilim ang 'yong paligid, hating-gabing walang hanggan
Anyo at kulay ng mundo sa'yoy pinagkaitan
Huwag mabahala, kaibigan, isinilang ka mang ganyan
Isang bulag sa kamunduhan, ligtas ka sa kasalanan
[Chorus]
Di nalalayo sa'yo ang tunay na mundo
Marami sa ami'y nabubuhay mang tulad mo
'Di makita, 'di marinig, minsa'y nauutal
Patungo sa hinahangan na buhay na banal
Ibigin mo mang umawit, hindi mo makuhang gawin
Sigaw ng puso't damdamin wala sa'yong pumapansin
Sampung daliri, kaibigan, d'yan ka nila pakikinggan
[ From: http://www.metrolyrics.com/bulag-pipi-at-bingi-lyrics-yeng-constantino.html ]
Pipi ka man nang isinilang, dakila ka sa sinuman
(Repeat Chorus)
Ano sa'yo ang musika, sa'yo ba'y mahalaga
Matahimik mong paligid, awitan ay 'di madinig
Mapala ka, o kaibigan, napakaingay ng mundo
Sa isang binging katulad mo, walang daing, walang gulo
(Repeat Chorus 2x)
videokeman.com/.../bulag-pipi-at-bingi-freddie-aguilar/
Anyo at kulay ng mundo sa'yoy pinagkaitan
Huwag mabahala, kaibigan, isinilang ka mang ganyan
Isang bulag sa kamunduhan, ligtas ka sa kasalanan
[Chorus]
Di nalalayo sa'yo ang tunay na mundo
Marami sa ami'y nabubuhay mang tulad mo
'Di makita, 'di marinig, minsa'y nauutal
Patungo sa hinahangan na buhay na banal
Ibigin mo mang umawit, hindi mo makuhang gawin
Sigaw ng puso't damdamin wala sa'yong pumapansin
Sampung daliri, kaibigan, d'yan ka nila pakikinggan
[ From: http://www.metrolyrics.com/bulag-pipi-at-bingi-lyrics-yeng-constantino.html ]
Pipi ka man nang isinilang, dakila ka sa sinuman
(Repeat Chorus)
Ano sa'yo ang musika, sa'yo ba'y mahalaga
Matahimik mong paligid, awitan ay 'di madinig
Mapala ka, o kaibigan, napakaingay ng mundo
Sa isang binging katulad mo, walang daing, walang gulo
(Repeat Chorus 2x)
videokeman.com/.../bulag-pipi-at-bingi-freddie-aguilar/
SINO ANG BALIW
Ang natutuwang baliw yaman ay pinagyabang
Dahil ari niya raw ang araw pati ang buwan
May isang sa yaman ay salapi ang hinihigan
Ngunit ang gintong baul panay kasalanan ang laman
Sinasambit ng baliw awit na walang laman
Ulo mo'y maiiling tatawagin mong hangal
May isang hindi baliw, iba ang awit na alam
Buong araw kung magdasal, sinungaling rin naman
Sinong dakila
Sino ang tunay na baliw
Sinong mapalad
Sinong tumatawag ng habag
Yaon bang sinilang na ang pag-iisip ay kapos
Ang kanyang tanging suot ay sira-sirang damit
Na nakikiramay sa isip niyang punit-punit
May binatang ang gayak panay diyamante at hiyas
Ngunit oras maghubad kulay ahas ang balat
Sinong dakila
Sino ang tunay na baliw
Sinong mapalad
Sinong tumatawag ng habag
Yaon bang sinilang na ang pag-iisip ay kapos
Ooh.....Ahh.......
Sa kanyang kilos at galaw tayo ay naaaliw
Sa ating mga mata isa lamang siyang baliw
Ngunit kung tayo ay hahatulang sabay
Sa mata ng Maykapal, siya'y higit na banal
Sinong dakila
Sino ang tunay na baliw
Sinong mapalad
Sinong tumatawag ng habag
Yaon bang sinilang na ang pag-iisip ay kapos
Kaya't sino, sino, sino nga
Sino nga ba
Sino nga ba
Sino nga ba ang tunay na baliw
http://www.allthelyrics.com/lyrics/kuh_ledesma/sino_ang_baliw-lyrics-1195981.htm
Dahil ari niya raw ang araw pati ang buwan
May isang sa yaman ay salapi ang hinihigan
Ngunit ang gintong baul panay kasalanan ang laman
Sinasambit ng baliw awit na walang laman
Ulo mo'y maiiling tatawagin mong hangal
May isang hindi baliw, iba ang awit na alam
Buong araw kung magdasal, sinungaling rin naman
Sinong dakila
Sino ang tunay na baliw
Sinong mapalad
Sinong tumatawag ng habag
Yaon bang sinilang na ang pag-iisip ay kapos
Ang kanyang tanging suot ay sira-sirang damit
Na nakikiramay sa isip niyang punit-punit
May binatang ang gayak panay diyamante at hiyas
Ngunit oras maghubad kulay ahas ang balat
Sinong dakila
Sino ang tunay na baliw
Sinong mapalad
Sinong tumatawag ng habag
Yaon bang sinilang na ang pag-iisip ay kapos
Ooh.....Ahh.......
Sa kanyang kilos at galaw tayo ay naaaliw
Sa ating mga mata isa lamang siyang baliw
Ngunit kung tayo ay hahatulang sabay
Sa mata ng Maykapal, siya'y higit na banal
Sinong dakila
Sino ang tunay na baliw
Sinong mapalad
Sinong tumatawag ng habag
Yaon bang sinilang na ang pag-iisip ay kapos
Kaya't sino, sino, sino nga
Sino nga ba
Sino nga ba
Sino nga ba ang tunay na baliw
http://www.allthelyrics.com/lyrics/kuh_ledesma/sino_ang_baliw-lyrics-1195981.htm
THE SMALL KEY
The Small Key ( Paz M. Latorena )
It was very warm. The sun, up above a sky that was blue and tremendous and beckoning to birds ever on the wing, shone bright as if determined to scorch everything under heaven, even the low, square nipa house that stood in an unashamed relief against the gray-green haze of grass and leaves.
It was lonely dwelling located far from its neighbors, which were huddled close to one another as if for mutual comfort. It was flanked on both sides by tall, slender bamboo tree which rustled plaintively under a gentle wind.
On the porch a woman past her early twenties stood regarding the scene before her with eyes made incurious by its familiarity. All around her the land stretched endlessly, it seemed, and vanished into the distance. There were dark, newly plowed furrows where in due time timorous seedling would give rise to sturdy stalks and golden grain, to a rippling yellow sea in the wind and sun during harvest time. Promise of plenty and reward for hard toil! With a sigh of discontent, however, the woman turned and entered a small dining room where a man sat over a belated a midday meal.
Pedro Buhay, a prosperous farmer, looked up from his plate and smiled at his wife as she stood framed by the doorway, the sunlight glinting on her dark hair, which was drawn back, without relenting wave, from a rather prominent and austere brow.
“Where are the shirts I ironed yesterday?” she asked as she approached the table.
“In my trunk, I think,” he answered.
“Some of them need darning,” and observing the empty plate, she added, “do you want some more rice?”
“No,” hastily, “I am in a burry to get back. We must finish plowing the south field today because tomorrow is Sunday.”
Pedro pushed the chair back and stood up. Soledad began to pile the dirty dishes one on top of the other.
“Here is the key to my trunk.” From the pocket of his khaki coat he pulled a string of non descript red which held together a big shiny key and another small, rather rusty looking one.
With deliberate care he untied the knot and, detaching the big key, dropped the small one back into his pocket. She watched him fixedly as he did this. The smile left her face and a strange look came into her eyes as she took the big key from him without a word. Together they left the dining room.
Out of the porch he put an arm around her shoulders and peered into her shadowed face.
“You look pale and tired,” he remarked softly. “What have you been doing all morning?”
“Nothing,” she said listlessly. “But the heat gives me a headache.”
“Then lie down and try to sleep while I am gone.” For a moment they looked deep into each other’s eyes.
“It is really warm,” he continued. “I think I will take off my coat.”
He removed the garment absent mindedly and handed it to her. The stairs creaked under his weight as he went down.
“Choleng,” he turned his head as he opened the gate, “I shall pass by Tia Maria’s house and tell her to come. I may not return before dark.”
Soledad nodded. Her eyes followed her husband down the road, noting the fine set of his head and shoulders, the case of his stride. A strange ache rose in her throat.
She looked at the coat he had handed to her. It exuded a faint smell of his favorite cigars, one of which he invariably smoked, after the day’s work, on his way home from the fields. Mechanically, she began to fold the garment.
As she was doing so, s small object fell from the floor with a dull, metallic sound. Soledad stooped down to pick it up. It was the small key! She stared at it in her palm as if she had never seen it before. Her mouth was tightly drawn and for a while she looked almost old.
She passed into the small bedroom and tossed the coat carelessly on the back of a chair. She opened the window and the early afternoon sunshine flooded in. On a mat spread on the bamboo floor were some newly washed garments.
She began to fold them one by one in feverish haste, as if seeking in the task of the moment in refuge from painful thoughts. But her eyes moved restlessly around the room until they rested almost furtively on a small trunk that was half concealed by a rolled mat in a dark corner.
It was a small old trunk, without anything on the outside that might arouse one’s curiosity. But it held the things she had come to hate with unreasoning violence, the things that were causing her so much unnecessary anguish and pain and threatened to destroy all that was most beautiful between her and her husband!
Soledad came across a torn garment. She threaded a needle, but after a few uneven stitches she pricked her finger and a crimson drop stained the white garment. Then she saw she had been mending on the wrong side.
“What is the matter with me?” she asked herself aloud as she pulled the thread with nervous and impatient fingers.
What did it matter if her husband chose to keep the clothes of his first wife?
“She is dead anyhow. She is dead,” she repeated to herself over and over again.
The sound of her own voice calmed her. She tried to thread the needle once more. But she could not, not for the tears had come unbidden and completely blinded her.
“My God,” she cried with a sob, “make me forget Indo’s face as he put the small key back into his pocket.”
She brushed her tears with the sleeves of her camisa and abruptly stood up. The heat was stifling, and the silence in the house was beginning to be unendurable.
She looked out of the window. She wondered what was keeping Tia Maria. Perhaps Pedro had forgotten to pass by her house in his hurry. She could picture him out there in the south field gazing far and wide at the newly plowed land with no thought in his mind but of work, work. For to the people of the barrio whose patron saint, San Isidro Labrador, smiled on them with benign eyes from his crude altar in the little chapel up the hill, this season was a prolonged hour during which they were blind and dead to everything but the demands of the land.
During the next half hour Soledad wandered in and out of the rooms in effort to seek escape from her own thoughts and to fight down an overpowering impulse. If Tia Maria would only come and talk to her to divert her thoughts to other channels!
But the expression on her husband’s face as he put the small key back into his pocket kept torturing her like a nightmare, goading beyond endurance. Then, with all resistance to the impulse gone, she was kneeling before the small trunk. With the long drawn breath she inserted the small key. There was an unpleasant metallic sound, for the key had not been used for a long time and it was rusty.
That evening Pedro Buhay hurried home with the usual cigar dangling from his mouth, pleased with himself and the tenants because the work in the south field had been finished. Tia Maria met him at the gate and told him that Soledad was in bed with a fever.
“I shall go to town and bring Doctor Santos,” he decided, his cool hand on his wife’s brow.
Soledad opened her eyes.
“Don’t, Indo,” she begged with a vague terror in her eyes which he took for anxiety for him because the town was pretty far and the road was dark and deserted by that hour of the night. “I shall be alright tomorrow.”
Pedro returned an hour later, very tired and very worried. The doctor was not at home but his wife had promised to give him Pedro’s message as soon as he came in.
Tia Maria decide to remain for the night. But it was Pedro who stayed up to watch the sick woman. He was puzzled and worried – more than he cared to admit it. It was true that Soledad did not looked very well early that afternoon. Yet, he thought, the fever was rather sudden. He was afraid it might be a symptom of a serious illness.
Soledad was restless the whole night. She tossed from one side to another, but toward morning she fell into some sort of troubled sleep. Pedro then lay down to snatch a few winks.
He woke up to find the soft morning sunshine streaming through the half-open window. He got up without making any noise. His wife was still asleep and now breathing evenly. A sudden rush of tenderness came over him at the sight of her – so slight, so frail.
Tia Maria was nowhere to be seen, but that did not bother him, for it was Sunday and the work in the south field was finished. However, he missed the pleasant aroma which came from the kitchen every time he had awakened early in the morning.
The kitchen was neat but cheerless, and an immediate search for wood brought no results. So shouldering an ax, Pedro descended the rickety stairs that led to the backyard.
The morning was clear and the breeze soft and cool. Pedro took in a deep breath of air. It was good – it smelt of trees, of the ricefields, of the land he loved.
He found a pile of logs under the young mango tree near the house and began to chop. He swung the ax with rapid clean sweeps, enjoying the feel of the smooth wooden handle in his palms.
As he stopped for a while to mop his brow, his eyes caught the remnants of a smudge that had been built in the backyard.
“Ah!” he muttered to himself. “She swept the yard yesterday after I left her. That, coupled with the heat, must have given her a headache and then the fever.”
The morning breeze stirred the ashes and a piece of white cloth fluttered into view.
Pedro dropped his ax. It was a half-burn panuelo. Somebody had been burning clothes. He examined the slightly ruined garment closely. A puzzled expression came into his eyes. First it was doubt groping for truth, then amazement, and finally agonized incredulity passed across his face. He almost ran back to the house. In three strides he was upstairs. He found his coat hanging from the back of a chair.
Cautiously he entered the room. The heavy breathing of his wife told him that she was still asleep. As he stood by the small trunk, a vague distaste to open it assailed to him. Surely he must be mistaken. She could not have done it, she could not have been that… that foolish.
Resolutely he opened the trunk. It was empty.
It was nearly noon when the doctor arrived. He felt Soledad’s pulse and asked question which she answered in monosyllables. Pedro stood by listening to the whole procedure with an inscrutable expression on his face. He had the same expression when the doctor told him that nothing was really wrong with his wife although she seemed to be worried about something. The physician merely prescribed a day of complete rest.
Pedro lingered on the porch after the doctor left. He was trying not to be angry with his wife. He hoped it would be just an interlude that could be recalled without bitterness. She would explain sooner or later, she would be repentant, perhaps she would even listen and eventually forgive her, for she was young and he loved her. But somehow he knew that this incident would always remain a shadow in their lives.
http://wiki.answers.com/Q/Small_key_by_paz_latorena
It was very warm. The sun, up above a sky that was blue and tremendous and beckoning to birds ever on the wing, shone bright as if determined to scorch everything under heaven, even the low, square nipa house that stood in an unashamed relief against the gray-green haze of grass and leaves.
It was lonely dwelling located far from its neighbors, which were huddled close to one another as if for mutual comfort. It was flanked on both sides by tall, slender bamboo tree which rustled plaintively under a gentle wind.
On the porch a woman past her early twenties stood regarding the scene before her with eyes made incurious by its familiarity. All around her the land stretched endlessly, it seemed, and vanished into the distance. There were dark, newly plowed furrows where in due time timorous seedling would give rise to sturdy stalks and golden grain, to a rippling yellow sea in the wind and sun during harvest time. Promise of plenty and reward for hard toil! With a sigh of discontent, however, the woman turned and entered a small dining room where a man sat over a belated a midday meal.
Pedro Buhay, a prosperous farmer, looked up from his plate and smiled at his wife as she stood framed by the doorway, the sunlight glinting on her dark hair, which was drawn back, without relenting wave, from a rather prominent and austere brow.
“Where are the shirts I ironed yesterday?” she asked as she approached the table.
“In my trunk, I think,” he answered.
“Some of them need darning,” and observing the empty plate, she added, “do you want some more rice?”
“No,” hastily, “I am in a burry to get back. We must finish plowing the south field today because tomorrow is Sunday.”
Pedro pushed the chair back and stood up. Soledad began to pile the dirty dishes one on top of the other.
“Here is the key to my trunk.” From the pocket of his khaki coat he pulled a string of non descript red which held together a big shiny key and another small, rather rusty looking one.
With deliberate care he untied the knot and, detaching the big key, dropped the small one back into his pocket. She watched him fixedly as he did this. The smile left her face and a strange look came into her eyes as she took the big key from him without a word. Together they left the dining room.
Out of the porch he put an arm around her shoulders and peered into her shadowed face.
“You look pale and tired,” he remarked softly. “What have you been doing all morning?”
“Nothing,” she said listlessly. “But the heat gives me a headache.”
“Then lie down and try to sleep while I am gone.” For a moment they looked deep into each other’s eyes.
“It is really warm,” he continued. “I think I will take off my coat.”
He removed the garment absent mindedly and handed it to her. The stairs creaked under his weight as he went down.
“Choleng,” he turned his head as he opened the gate, “I shall pass by Tia Maria’s house and tell her to come. I may not return before dark.”
Soledad nodded. Her eyes followed her husband down the road, noting the fine set of his head and shoulders, the case of his stride. A strange ache rose in her throat.
She looked at the coat he had handed to her. It exuded a faint smell of his favorite cigars, one of which he invariably smoked, after the day’s work, on his way home from the fields. Mechanically, she began to fold the garment.
As she was doing so, s small object fell from the floor with a dull, metallic sound. Soledad stooped down to pick it up. It was the small key! She stared at it in her palm as if she had never seen it before. Her mouth was tightly drawn and for a while she looked almost old.
She passed into the small bedroom and tossed the coat carelessly on the back of a chair. She opened the window and the early afternoon sunshine flooded in. On a mat spread on the bamboo floor were some newly washed garments.
She began to fold them one by one in feverish haste, as if seeking in the task of the moment in refuge from painful thoughts. But her eyes moved restlessly around the room until they rested almost furtively on a small trunk that was half concealed by a rolled mat in a dark corner.
It was a small old trunk, without anything on the outside that might arouse one’s curiosity. But it held the things she had come to hate with unreasoning violence, the things that were causing her so much unnecessary anguish and pain and threatened to destroy all that was most beautiful between her and her husband!
Soledad came across a torn garment. She threaded a needle, but after a few uneven stitches she pricked her finger and a crimson drop stained the white garment. Then she saw she had been mending on the wrong side.
“What is the matter with me?” she asked herself aloud as she pulled the thread with nervous and impatient fingers.
What did it matter if her husband chose to keep the clothes of his first wife?
“She is dead anyhow. She is dead,” she repeated to herself over and over again.
The sound of her own voice calmed her. She tried to thread the needle once more. But she could not, not for the tears had come unbidden and completely blinded her.
“My God,” she cried with a sob, “make me forget Indo’s face as he put the small key back into his pocket.”
She brushed her tears with the sleeves of her camisa and abruptly stood up. The heat was stifling, and the silence in the house was beginning to be unendurable.
She looked out of the window. She wondered what was keeping Tia Maria. Perhaps Pedro had forgotten to pass by her house in his hurry. She could picture him out there in the south field gazing far and wide at the newly plowed land with no thought in his mind but of work, work. For to the people of the barrio whose patron saint, San Isidro Labrador, smiled on them with benign eyes from his crude altar in the little chapel up the hill, this season was a prolonged hour during which they were blind and dead to everything but the demands of the land.
During the next half hour Soledad wandered in and out of the rooms in effort to seek escape from her own thoughts and to fight down an overpowering impulse. If Tia Maria would only come and talk to her to divert her thoughts to other channels!
But the expression on her husband’s face as he put the small key back into his pocket kept torturing her like a nightmare, goading beyond endurance. Then, with all resistance to the impulse gone, she was kneeling before the small trunk. With the long drawn breath she inserted the small key. There was an unpleasant metallic sound, for the key had not been used for a long time and it was rusty.
That evening Pedro Buhay hurried home with the usual cigar dangling from his mouth, pleased with himself and the tenants because the work in the south field had been finished. Tia Maria met him at the gate and told him that Soledad was in bed with a fever.
“I shall go to town and bring Doctor Santos,” he decided, his cool hand on his wife’s brow.
Soledad opened her eyes.
“Don’t, Indo,” she begged with a vague terror in her eyes which he took for anxiety for him because the town was pretty far and the road was dark and deserted by that hour of the night. “I shall be alright tomorrow.”
Pedro returned an hour later, very tired and very worried. The doctor was not at home but his wife had promised to give him Pedro’s message as soon as he came in.
Tia Maria decide to remain for the night. But it was Pedro who stayed up to watch the sick woman. He was puzzled and worried – more than he cared to admit it. It was true that Soledad did not looked very well early that afternoon. Yet, he thought, the fever was rather sudden. He was afraid it might be a symptom of a serious illness.
Soledad was restless the whole night. She tossed from one side to another, but toward morning she fell into some sort of troubled sleep. Pedro then lay down to snatch a few winks.
He woke up to find the soft morning sunshine streaming through the half-open window. He got up without making any noise. His wife was still asleep and now breathing evenly. A sudden rush of tenderness came over him at the sight of her – so slight, so frail.
Tia Maria was nowhere to be seen, but that did not bother him, for it was Sunday and the work in the south field was finished. However, he missed the pleasant aroma which came from the kitchen every time he had awakened early in the morning.
The kitchen was neat but cheerless, and an immediate search for wood brought no results. So shouldering an ax, Pedro descended the rickety stairs that led to the backyard.
The morning was clear and the breeze soft and cool. Pedro took in a deep breath of air. It was good – it smelt of trees, of the ricefields, of the land he loved.
He found a pile of logs under the young mango tree near the house and began to chop. He swung the ax with rapid clean sweeps, enjoying the feel of the smooth wooden handle in his palms.
As he stopped for a while to mop his brow, his eyes caught the remnants of a smudge that had been built in the backyard.
“Ah!” he muttered to himself. “She swept the yard yesterday after I left her. That, coupled with the heat, must have given her a headache and then the fever.”
The morning breeze stirred the ashes and a piece of white cloth fluttered into view.
Pedro dropped his ax. It was a half-burn panuelo. Somebody had been burning clothes. He examined the slightly ruined garment closely. A puzzled expression came into his eyes. First it was doubt groping for truth, then amazement, and finally agonized incredulity passed across his face. He almost ran back to the house. In three strides he was upstairs. He found his coat hanging from the back of a chair.
Cautiously he entered the room. The heavy breathing of his wife told him that she was still asleep. As he stood by the small trunk, a vague distaste to open it assailed to him. Surely he must be mistaken. She could not have done it, she could not have been that… that foolish.
Resolutely he opened the trunk. It was empty.
It was nearly noon when the doctor arrived. He felt Soledad’s pulse and asked question which she answered in monosyllables. Pedro stood by listening to the whole procedure with an inscrutable expression on his face. He had the same expression when the doctor told him that nothing was really wrong with his wife although she seemed to be worried about something. The physician merely prescribed a day of complete rest.
Pedro lingered on the porch after the doctor left. He was trying not to be angry with his wife. He hoped it would be just an interlude that could be recalled without bitterness. She would explain sooner or later, she would be repentant, perhaps she would even listen and eventually forgive her, for she was young and he loved her. But somehow he knew that this incident would always remain a shadow in their lives.
http://wiki.answers.com/Q/Small_key_by_paz_latorena
THE HAPPY HOI POLLOI
The Happy Hoi PoLLoi By: kerima Polotan Tuvera
The Happy Hoi Polloi:
“In the Luneta, all colors blend ‚ the brown and the white and yellow of people; the green and blue and red of shrubs. Towards the sea, the great sward stretches, and the globes of light hang like huge pearls, are caught in the waters of the lake. People flow by, stop and eddy, break and whirl again. Across the pond, a band plays; a balloon breaks loose from some child’s grasp and floats towards an early star. Here, the land lies flat and green, broken only by stone; there, it rises in a series of small hills that hide the curving tips of a pagoda. The doves come, cooing and beating their wings around a man, dressed in a tiger’s suit, and giving away candy. The lovers try not to be conspicuous. A family spreads the contents of a bag — kropeck, juice, biscuits. One mother lies on a mat, unashamedly nursing her baby. On other mats, men and their wives, kicking their heels at the sky. The park guards watch when they can but soon grow weary and give up. The sky is like a canvas washed clean, gray along the edges, and you think, looking over the heads around you, how distant the heat of living is — tonight’s dishes, tomorrow’s bundy clock. Joy is a fitful moment, but better that than nothing.”
http://krizzadiwa.blogspot.com/2011/01/happy-hoi-polloi-by-kerima-polotan.html
The Happy Hoi Polloi:
“In the Luneta, all colors blend ‚ the brown and the white and yellow of people; the green and blue and red of shrubs. Towards the sea, the great sward stretches, and the globes of light hang like huge pearls, are caught in the waters of the lake. People flow by, stop and eddy, break and whirl again. Across the pond, a band plays; a balloon breaks loose from some child’s grasp and floats towards an early star. Here, the land lies flat and green, broken only by stone; there, it rises in a series of small hills that hide the curving tips of a pagoda. The doves come, cooing and beating their wings around a man, dressed in a tiger’s suit, and giving away candy. The lovers try not to be conspicuous. A family spreads the contents of a bag — kropeck, juice, biscuits. One mother lies on a mat, unashamedly nursing her baby. On other mats, men and their wives, kicking their heels at the sky. The park guards watch when they can but soon grow weary and give up. The sky is like a canvas washed clean, gray along the edges, and you think, looking over the heads around you, how distant the heat of living is — tonight’s dishes, tomorrow’s bundy clock. Joy is a fitful moment, but better that than nothing.”
http://krizzadiwa.blogspot.com/2011/01/happy-hoi-polloi-by-kerima-polotan.html
THE WORLD IS AN APPLE
The world is an apple
Characters: -Mario
-Gloria
-Pablo
Narrator: Mario enters. sits down and buries his head in his hands. Gloria crosses to him and lay a hand on his shoulder.
Gloria: I know something is wrong. Mario, I can feel it. Tell me what it is
Mario: Gloria, I've lost my job
Gloria: Oh, no! How did you lose it? Mario! Have your sinful fingers brought you trouble again?
Mario: Now, now, Gloria Don't try to accuse me as they did. An apple! Yes, and they kicked me out for it for taking one single apple
Gloria: So that's what you get. . .
Mario: Could I guessed they would do that for one apple? When there were millions of them? We were hauling them to the warehouse. I saw one roll out of a broken crate. It was that big. Suddenly, I found myself putting it in my lunch bag. Do you remember that day I took our little girl out for a walk? On our way home we passed a grocery store that sold "delicious" apples at seventy centavos each. She wanted me to buy one for her but I did not have seventy centavos. She cried. So, when I saw this apple roll out of crate, I thought that Tita would love to have it.
Gloria: We're not rich. We can live without apples.
Mario: Why? Did God create apple trees to bear fruit for the rich alone? Didn't He create the whole world for everyone?
Gloria: So, for a measly apple, you lose a job! Filching an apple that's too small a reason to kick a poor man out a work. You should ask them to give you a second chance, Mario.
Mario: They won't do that. Can't you see they had waiting for me to make a slip like that? They've wanted to throw me out for any reason, so that they may bring their men in.
Gloria: You should complain. . .
If I did, they would dig up my police record. They will do anything to keep me out. But, don't worry, I have found a good job.
Gloria: I know God wouldn't let us down. Mother was wrong. You know, before we get married, she used to tell me "Gloria, you'll commit the greatest mistake of your life if you marry a good - for - nothing loafer!." Oh, you've changed!
Pablo: Hmmmm. How romantic.
Mario: Pablo!
Gloria: What are you doing here? What do you want?
Pablo: Your daughter. . . how is she? Here, I'll loan you a few pesos. It may help your daughter to get well.
Gloria: No. Thank you. Mario has stopped depending on you, since the day I took him away from your clutches! I have no regrets. Mario has none, either.
Pablo: How you can be sure? When he and I were pals we could go to first -class air- conditioned movie houses every other day. I'll bet all the money I have here now that he has not been to one for four years!
Gloria: One cannot expect too much from honest money - we don't
Pablo: What is honest money? Does it buy more? Staying in this dungeon you call a house, is that what you so beautifully call "honesty"?.
Mario: Pablo!
Gloria: I know you have come to lead him back to your dishonest ways, but you can't.
Pablo: You call this living? This Gloria,, is what you call dying - dying slowly minute by minute.
Mario: Pablo, stop it!.
Pablo: Tell her that you no longer believe in the way she wanted you to live.
Gloria: Oh! Mario, . . you promised me you were through with him.
Mario: Gloria. . . you . . . must understand . . . I tried long and hard . . . but could not lift us out of this kind of life. . .
Gloria: You are not going with him, You take good care of yourself and our child.
(Mario walks away with Pablo, Gloria stares dumbly at then.)
Gloria: Mariooooo! ( she cover her face with her dress and cries into it.)
Read more: http://wiki.answers.com/Q/What_is_the_whole_script_of_The_world_is_an_apple_by_Alberto_Florentino#ixzz1D3b6nTal
http://wiki.answers.com/Q/What_is_the_whole_script_of_The_world_is_an_apple_by_Alberto_Florentino
Characters: -Mario
-Gloria
-Pablo
Narrator: Mario enters. sits down and buries his head in his hands. Gloria crosses to him and lay a hand on his shoulder.
Gloria: I know something is wrong. Mario, I can feel it. Tell me what it is
Mario: Gloria, I've lost my job
Gloria: Oh, no! How did you lose it? Mario! Have your sinful fingers brought you trouble again?
Mario: Now, now, Gloria Don't try to accuse me as they did. An apple! Yes, and they kicked me out for it for taking one single apple
Gloria: So that's what you get. . .
Mario: Could I guessed they would do that for one apple? When there were millions of them? We were hauling them to the warehouse. I saw one roll out of a broken crate. It was that big. Suddenly, I found myself putting it in my lunch bag. Do you remember that day I took our little girl out for a walk? On our way home we passed a grocery store that sold "delicious" apples at seventy centavos each. She wanted me to buy one for her but I did not have seventy centavos. She cried. So, when I saw this apple roll out of crate, I thought that Tita would love to have it.
Gloria: We're not rich. We can live without apples.
Mario: Why? Did God create apple trees to bear fruit for the rich alone? Didn't He create the whole world for everyone?
Gloria: So, for a measly apple, you lose a job! Filching an apple that's too small a reason to kick a poor man out a work. You should ask them to give you a second chance, Mario.
Mario: They won't do that. Can't you see they had waiting for me to make a slip like that? They've wanted to throw me out for any reason, so that they may bring their men in.
Gloria: You should complain. . .
If I did, they would dig up my police record. They will do anything to keep me out. But, don't worry, I have found a good job.
Gloria: I know God wouldn't let us down. Mother was wrong. You know, before we get married, she used to tell me "Gloria, you'll commit the greatest mistake of your life if you marry a good - for - nothing loafer!." Oh, you've changed!
Pablo: Hmmmm. How romantic.
Mario: Pablo!
Gloria: What are you doing here? What do you want?
Pablo: Your daughter. . . how is she? Here, I'll loan you a few pesos. It may help your daughter to get well.
Gloria: No. Thank you. Mario has stopped depending on you, since the day I took him away from your clutches! I have no regrets. Mario has none, either.
Pablo: How you can be sure? When he and I were pals we could go to first -class air- conditioned movie houses every other day. I'll bet all the money I have here now that he has not been to one for four years!
Gloria: One cannot expect too much from honest money - we don't
Pablo: What is honest money? Does it buy more? Staying in this dungeon you call a house, is that what you so beautifully call "honesty"?.
Mario: Pablo!
Gloria: I know you have come to lead him back to your dishonest ways, but you can't.
Pablo: You call this living? This Gloria,, is what you call dying - dying slowly minute by minute.
Mario: Pablo, stop it!.
Pablo: Tell her that you no longer believe in the way she wanted you to live.
Gloria: Oh! Mario, . . you promised me you were through with him.
Mario: Gloria. . . you . . . must understand . . . I tried long and hard . . . but could not lift us out of this kind of life. . .
Gloria: You are not going with him, You take good care of yourself and our child.
(Mario walks away with Pablo, Gloria stares dumbly at then.)
Gloria: Mariooooo! ( she cover her face with her dress and cries into it.)
Read more: http://wiki.answers.com/Q/What_is_the_whole_script_of_The_world_is_an_apple_by_Alberto_Florentino#ixzz1D3b6nTal
http://wiki.answers.com/Q/What_is_the_whole_script_of_The_world_is_an_apple_by_Alberto_Florentino
ANOTHER INVITATION TO THE POPE TO VISIT TONDO
ANOTHER INVITATION TO THE POPE TO VISIT TONDO (EmManuel TorRes)
Next time your Holiness slums through our lives,
we will try to make our poverty exemplary.
The best is a typhoon month. It never fails
To find us, like charity, knocking on
all sides of the rough arrangements we thrive in.
Mud shall be plenty for the feet of the pious.
We will show uoi how we pull things together
from nowhere, life after life,
prosper with children, whom you love. To be sure,
we shall have more for you to love.
We will show you where the sun leaks on
our sleep,
on the dailiness of piece meals and wages
with their habit of slipping away
from fists that have holes for pockets.
We will show you our latest child with a sore
that never sleeps. When he cries,
the dogs of the afternoon bark without stopping,
and evening darkens early on the mats.
Stay for supper of turnips on our table
since 1946 swollen with the same hard tears.
The buntings over our one and only window
shall welcome a short breeze.
And lead prayers for the family that starves
and stays together. If we wear roasries round
our nexks
it is not because they never bruise our fingers,
(Pardon if we doze on a dream of Amen.)
But remember to remember to reward us
with something . . . more lush, greener than all
the lawns of memorial parks singing together.
Our eyes shall belss the liveliness of dollars.
Shed no tears, please, for the brown multitudes
who thicken on chance and feast on leftovers
as the burning garbage smuts the sky of Manila
pile after pile after pile.
Fear not. Now there are only surreal assassins
about who dream of your death in the shape
of a flowering kris.
http://www.oocities.com/phil_poetry/menu_poems04.html
Next time your Holiness slums through our lives,
we will try to make our poverty exemplary.
The best is a typhoon month. It never fails
To find us, like charity, knocking on
all sides of the rough arrangements we thrive in.
Mud shall be plenty for the feet of the pious.
We will show uoi how we pull things together
from nowhere, life after life,
prosper with children, whom you love. To be sure,
we shall have more for you to love.
We will show you where the sun leaks on
our sleep,
on the dailiness of piece meals and wages
with their habit of slipping away
from fists that have holes for pockets.
We will show you our latest child with a sore
that never sleeps. When he cries,
the dogs of the afternoon bark without stopping,
and evening darkens early on the mats.
Stay for supper of turnips on our table
since 1946 swollen with the same hard tears.
The buntings over our one and only window
shall welcome a short breeze.
And lead prayers for the family that starves
and stays together. If we wear roasries round
our nexks
it is not because they never bruise our fingers,
(Pardon if we doze on a dream of Amen.)
But remember to remember to reward us
with something . . . more lush, greener than all
the lawns of memorial parks singing together.
Our eyes shall belss the liveliness of dollars.
Shed no tears, please, for the brown multitudes
who thicken on chance and feast on leftovers
as the burning garbage smuts the sky of Manila
pile after pile after pile.
Fear not. Now there are only surreal assassins
about who dream of your death in the shape
of a flowering kris.
http://www.oocities.com/phil_poetry/menu_poems04.html
THE NEWYORKER IN TONDO
"New Yorker in Tondo" is a classic Filipino Play by Marcelino Agana, Jr. It is a satire written in the 50's. It is a story about a girl named Kikay who goes to New York and fell in love with it. She acquires all the New Yorkish things - style, looks, language and manners. These things are very obvious when she arrives in the Philippines specifically in Tondo.
Aling Atang, mother of Kikay, has been carried away by her daughters way of living. She tries to converse with everybody in broken English.
Tony, childhood sweetheart of Kikay, decides to visit and catch things up with her friend. He is a simple guy who got secretly engaged with their other childhood friend, Neva.
Nena is a tomboyish type of girl. On her visit in Kikay's house, she finds her friend different and weird. She gets irritated and even imitates Kikay's ways.
Totoy, the Tondo "canto boy" is their other friend who is funny and has a secret love for Nenan which has only been revealded when the two females had a clash.
Near the end, the secret love of the characters in the story is revealded. And the two pairs end up in each other's arms. Kikay is back to her old self -- simple and kind. Most of all, the Filipino value learned by the protagonist which is "there is no place like home", is a lesson on love of country and its culture.
Aling Atang, mother of Kikay, has been carried away by her daughters way of living. She tries to converse with everybody in broken English.
Tony, childhood sweetheart of Kikay, decides to visit and catch things up with her friend. He is a simple guy who got secretly engaged with their other childhood friend, Neva.
Nena is a tomboyish type of girl. On her visit in Kikay's house, she finds her friend different and weird. She gets irritated and even imitates Kikay's ways.
Totoy, the Tondo "canto boy" is their other friend who is funny and has a secret love for Nenan which has only been revealded when the two females had a clash.
Near the end, the secret love of the characters in the story is revealded. And the two pairs end up in each other's arms. Kikay is back to her old self -- simple and kind. Most of all, the Filipino value learned by the protagonist which is "there is no place like home", is a lesson on love of country and its culture.
Friday, February 18, 2011
"THE REAL TREASURE"
Many things happened in this world everyday and everywhere which man cannot predict, we can only say "its God's will". Filipino experience so much pain under every colonizer. Pain which is not only felt by their skin but also felt by their heart. Wounds that result into a revenge and claim back our dear fatherland. The braveness, fearless, and intrepid courage are all passed through in every blood of every Filipino. Filipino people carried the dignity of our country until to their last breath. It is not enough to just remember their name because its also much more important to remember what they have done. We should be thankful in every right we used to exercise in today's generation. Philippines are blessed to have a citizens who are willing to sacrifice their own life. Filipino brings our national flag on the top of the world for having an undisputed solid patriotism.
May bagyo ma't may rilim, Mi Ultimo adios, and katapusang hibik ng pilipinas are just 3 of those poem which is the product of Spanish colonization era. It described the confidence, strength, and hope of our country. It is a document which described the sufferings of the Filipino people, from the time that they losing their faith to the time the they find their chances. Chances that give them new faith, faith that can help them to survive. May Day Eve, Zita, and the happy hoi polloi, are just 3 of those reflection of how Filipinos escaped from the hardship under us colonization. The story of fantasy and happiness described the aiming of the Filipino to have a better life. Their experiences in surviving help them, to continue to live under the hands of Americans. The great will to surpassed all these trials are always in their heart. Because they always believed in one thing, and they always look above for him. Holy is the Lord, King of Glory, forever savior of the world.
In our modern day today, we almost adopt the latest, trendiest, and the most popular things we've seen and encountered with. Everything changes and continue to changes. I as a student, hoping that one thing won't change, and this is the love for those people who fought for our democracy. For me, Jose Rizal is not just only our national hero, but it is all Filipino who sacrificed their life to redeem our democracy, for all who wish to end every depression under every colonizer. For all who hoped to end the tearful supplication under Marcos dictatorship. For all who find that their right are being violated, They are all my national heroes. Filipino who are brave enough just to prove to the world that "WE CAN". We can stand as one, we can governed as one, that we can begin again. National heroes who carry our flag on the top of the world. Who are confident to introduced the personality of the Filipino citizen. Many blood splash out, many life are lost, now is the time for us to continue to prove that "WE CAN", now is the time to show our debt that we cared for. Let us continue the battle begin by our heroes. We have what we have now because of them. They are the real treasures of this loving country.
"We may not know the dignity of their birth but at least we know the glory of their death."
"THE REAL TREASURE"
"Heroes who make the Filipino as one, and absolutely make the whole world ---one".
Many things happened in this world everyday and everywhere which man cannot predict, we can only say "its God's will". Filipino experience so much pain under every colonizer. Pain which is not only felt by their skin but also felt by their heart. Wounds that result into a revenge and claim back our dear fatherland. The braveness, fearless, and intrepid courage are all passed through in every blood of every Filipino. Filipino people carried the dignity of our country until to their last breath. It is not enough to just remember their name because its also much more important to remember what they have done. We should be thankful in every right we used to exercise in today's generation. Philippines are blessed to have a citizens who are willing to sacrifice their own life. Filipino brings our national flag on the top of the world for having an undisputed solid patriotism.
May bagyo ma't may rilim, Mi Ultimo adios, and katapusang hibik ng pilipinas are just 3 of those poem which is the product of Spanish colonization era. It described the confidence, strength, and hope of our country. It is a document which described the sufferings of the Filipino people, from the time that they losing their faith to the time the they find their chances. Chances that give them new faith, faith that can help them to survive. May Day Eve, Zita, and the happy hoi polloi, are just 3 of those reflection of how Filipinos escaped from the hardship under us colonization. The story of fantasy and happiness described the aiming of the Filipino to have a better life. Their experiences in surviving help them, to continue to live under the hands of Americans. The great will to surpassed all these trials are always in their heart. Because they always believed in one thing, and they always look above for him. Holy is the Lord, King of Glory, forever savior of the world.
In our modern day today, we almost adopt the latest, trendiest, and the most popular things we've seen and encountered with. Everything changes and continue to changes. I as a student, hoping that one thing won't change, and this is the love for those people who fought for our democracy. For me, Jose Rizal is not just only our national hero, but it is all Filipino who sacrificed their life to redeem our democracy, for all who wish to end every depression under every colonizer. For all who hoped to end the tearful supplication under Marcos dictatorship. For all who find that their right are being violated, They are all my national heroes. Filipino who are brave enough just to prove to the world that "WE CAN". We can stand as one, we can governed as one, that we can begin again. National heroes who carry our flag on the top of the world. Who are confident to introduced the personality of the Filipino citizen. Many blood splash out, many life are lost, now is the time for us to continue to prove that "WE CAN", now is the time to show our debt that we cared for. Let us continue the battle begin by our heroes. We have what we have now because of them. They are the real treasures of this loving country.
"We may not know the dignity of their birth but at least we know the glory of their death."
Many things happened in this world everyday and everywhere which man cannot predict, we can only say "its God's will". Filipino experience so much pain under every colonizer. Pain which is not only felt by their skin but also felt by their heart. Wounds that result into a revenge and claim back our dear fatherland. The braveness, fearless, and intrepid courage are all passed through in every blood of every Filipino. Filipino people carried the dignity of our country until to their last breath. It is not enough to just remember their name because its also much more important to remember what they have done. We should be thankful in every right we used to exercise in today's generation. Philippines are blessed to have a citizens who are willing to sacrifice their own life. Filipino brings our national flag on the top of the world for having an undisputed solid patriotism.
May bagyo ma't may rilim, Mi Ultimo adios, and katapusang hibik ng pilipinas are just 3 of those poem which is the product of Spanish colonization era. It described the confidence, strength, and hope of our country. It is a document which described the sufferings of the Filipino people, from the time that they losing their faith to the time the they find their chances. Chances that give them new faith, faith that can help them to survive. May Day Eve, Zita, and the happy hoi polloi, are just 3 of those reflection of how Filipinos escaped from the hardship under us colonization. The story of fantasy and happiness described the aiming of the Filipino to have a better life. Their experiences in surviving help them, to continue to live under the hands of Americans. The great will to surpassed all these trials are always in their heart. Because they always believed in one thing, and they always look above for him. Holy is the Lord, King of Glory, forever savior of the world.
In our modern day today, we almost adopt the latest, trendiest, and the most popular things we've seen and encountered with. Everything changes and continue to changes. I as a student, hoping that one thing won't change, and this is the love for those people who fought for our democracy. For me, Jose Rizal is not just only our national hero, but it is all Filipino who sacrificed their life to redeem our democracy, for all who wish to end every depression under every colonizer. For all who hoped to end the tearful supplication under Marcos dictatorship. For all who find that their right are being violated, They are all my national heroes. Filipino who are brave enough just to prove to the world that "WE CAN". We can stand as one, we can governed as one, that we can begin again. National heroes who carry our flag on the top of the world. Who are confident to introduced the personality of the Filipino citizen. Many blood splash out, many life are lost, now is the time for us to continue to prove that "WE CAN", now is the time to show our debt that we cared for. Let us continue the battle begin by our heroes. We have what we have now because of them. They are the real treasures of this loving country.
"We may not know the dignity of their birth but at least we know the glory of their death."
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