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.