My Favorite Filipino Poem
Jose Corazon de Jesus
Itanong
Mo Sa Bituin (Ask the Stars)
Isang
gabi'y manungaw ka. Sa bunton ng panganorin
ay
tanawin ang ulila't naglalamay na bituin;
Sa
bitui'y itanong mo ang ngalan ng aking giliw
at
kung siya'y magtatapat, ngalan mo ang sasabihin.
Ang
bitui'y kapatid mo. Kung siya ma'y nasa langit,
ikaw'y
ditong nasa lupa't bituin ka ng pag-ibig;
dahil
diya'y itanong mo sa bituin mong kapatid
kundi
ikaw ang dalagang minamahal ko nang labis.
Itanong
mo sa bitui't bituin ang nakakita
nang
ako ay umagahin sa piling ng mga dusa;
minagdamag
ang palad ko sa pagtawag ng Amada,
ngunit
ikaw na tinawag, lumayo na't nagtago pa.
Bienvenido Lumbera
Servant
On
the shut door of the mind
We
knock, we of soul and body torn;
We
who serve and are ignored,
Broken
into pieces to be of use.
Our
heads nod, our arms lift,
Our
feet are quick, our faces turn:
We
scatter our parts to the beck
And
call of those higher than us.
Deep
within, we have a name,
A
story to tell. Against a harsh life
We've
put up a fight, only
To
end up with a servant's life.
We
serve the strong, we are
Feet
and arms wanting to climb,
Heads
and faces used to fool the law,
Will
we be whole again tomorrow?
Up
ahead the new day shines,
The
change-of-fate we seek-
Then
we shall rise again,
With
our names and bodies back.
Jose Garcia Villa
Lyrics 18
From Jose Garcia Villa 55 Poems
Be beautiful,
noble, like the antique ant,
Who bore the
storms as he bore the sun,
Wearing
neither gown nor helmet,
Though he
was archbishop and soldier:
Wore only
his own flesh.
Salute
characters with gracious dignity:
Though what
these are is left to
Your own
terms. Exact: the universe is
Not so small
but these will be found
Somewhere:
Exact: they will be found.
.
Speak with
great moderation: but think
With great
fierceness, burning passion:
Though what
the ant thought
No annals
reveal, nor his descendants
Break the
seal.
Trace the
tracelessness of the ant,
Every ant
has reached this perfection.
As he comes,
so he goes,
Flowing as
water flows,
Essential
but secret like a rose.
Bienvenido Lumbera
Sadness
Sweet little
songs I make,
Tunes so
pure and full of love.
When lovers
are timid and mute,
I give them
voice, I make them bold.
Once I bid a
word to come
And help me
put together a poem.
From far and
near, from wherever,
The word
brought the poem warmth.
Each word I
painstakingly refine,
And I wash
the impoverished tongue.
I soothe and
salve the cry of pain,
I banish any
trace of tears.
But sadness
I cannot send away—
Its little
waves lap and leave,
Lap and
leave the shore of the heart,
This moment
a whisper, next a storm.
Cirilo Bautista
Pedagogic
I walked
towards the falling woods
to teach the
trees all that I could
of time and
birth, the language of men,
the virtues
of hate and loving.
They stood
with their fingers flaming,
Listened to
me with a serious mien:
I knew the
footnotes, all the text,
my words
were precise and correct-
I was sure
that they were learning-
till one
tree spoke, speaking in dolor,
to ask why I
never changed color.