Pulaw sa tag-arani Harvest Vigil Pagsamput kang sirum When dusk comes Mapungko kami We gather Palibot sa sartin nga pinggan Around tin plates Sa salug nga kawayan. On the bamboo floor. Mahamot nga kan-un There's fragrant rice Isamo sa sampudyot nga asin, Taken in handfuls Pus-an kang kamatis With salt and crushed tomatoes, Kag laktan kang yuhum. They go well with a smile. Kon mabusog gani Once we are full Mahumlad kang banig, We spread our straw mats, Mahulat sa ugsad kag mamati Wait for the full moon, listen Sa paglitik kang paray. to the ricestalks kiss the ground. Kag sa amun katurugon And in our sleep Ginaisip ang kada pasi We count every grain Nga inugbayad With which to pay Sa amun mga utang. Our debts.
Mga Panahon Seasons Tapos run ang panahon The season for flying kites Kang pagtugpo kang mga burador. Has ended. Ang mga nabilin daw mga sikag We can see kites like skeletons Sa alambre kang kuryente. Hanging from electric lines. Kato nga maalwan pa ang hangin There was a time when the wind Sari-sari ang dagway kag duag Was more generous. Kang mga burador - daw mga isda Kites were of all forms & colors, Nagasibad sa dagat kang kahawaan. Like fishes in heaven's blue ocean. Samtang ang mga bata While the children Sa langit nagatangra, Look up the sky, Hugut ang pagpangyaput Holding the thin string Sa manipis nga higot. so tight. Raad indi mabugto, Hoping it wont break, Ukon makasab-it. Or the kites wont crash. Raad indi maabtan Hoping the season of rain Kang tinguran. Never comes. Ugaring tapos run ang panahon But the season for casting dreams Kang pagpalupad kang mga damgo. Has ended. Ang nabilin sikag lamang What's left are fishbones Sa tubug kang handumanan. Aslant in memory's throat.
Excerpted from "In search of a voice: An introduction to myself and my poetry."
These are the poems that have kept alive my memory of Antique, a memory not altogether sweet because they speak of the poverty of the Antiqueños - a life depending so much on hope and prayers, and divine providence. In these poems we see village youths leaving the farm to work as servants in cities, sakadas (seasonal laborers) coming and going and losing what little they earn to vices, fisherfolk struggling with a sometimes not so generous sea, mananggite daily making their ritual of tuba-gathering only to savor life's sweetness in their dreams, betel-nut-chewing peasant women cleaning snails for supper. The irony is that their very poverty gives them hope and will to survive.
___________________
I am publishing a collection of these Kinaray-a poems. If interested, you can e-mail me at adsantos@hotmail.com.
|
Back to Alex C Delos Santos Homepage: If you are interested in more of my poems, and links to a site about Antique, and other articles. Read also my poems in English: Poems dedicated to friends, to one of my favorite writers, to memories of childhood, and to the Antiqueños Tabig Writers of Antique: Here's a story of how a group of young Kinaray-a writers revived Kinaray-a literature Poems by Tabig Writers: More Kinaray-a poems by other Antiqueño writers My Thoughts & Ideas: If you want to read other things I write about |