"Wake Your Soul" by The Hope Arsenal, translated to Tagalog

Ipagdamot ang banaag sa mga mata
sa muling pagbagsak ng ulan
at hustuhin ang anuman.
Pagtambalin - isipa't paniniwala.
Takot na lumayas;
hindi nga mapakali.
Hahablutin kahit ng sulyap
pag-asa kong nakalaon sa bukas.

Nag-iisa't giniginaw.
Bigla na lang magugunaw;
at tatandang sabay kay Haring Araw
Matikas, sa kabila ng agos;
ka'y madudulas, magbubuntong-hininga.
Magbabagang lubos ang siniga
kaya't gisingin ang kalul'wa
bago tuluyang iwanan ka.

Oublier la belle

No trace of blue in my sockets;

no red paint on either cheek;

none on the forehead as well;

but my words – they slur as I speak.

My feet are in a hurry;

my mind in the comfort of clouds.

The river is calm as today's skies.

I wiped off the mote in my brow.

Desires uncertain, motives unclear—

I cannot distinguish for sure.

Did I mistake for having forgotten

When in truth I had only let go?

The mote to my horror is blue.

Alight!

Ajar windows beckon!

For what? I do not know.

Ebony or ivory or shades of grey
tell a story either way.
Alight, the airs inside!
A light must seek and find its way.
Hers is the consequence.

Seven Hearts

The want, nimble;
insecurities, sure.
I was here, you there;
we were never so close.
A distance of feet,
or is it of hearts?
I am never so sure.

Ecstasy tastes
like your words in the morning:
surety in my lips,
a sunrise in yours.

Bound in your chains,
I am rev`rently calling
the bearer of whips
to aid my remorse.

You are no flower,
you are no light,
yet the dawn in your eyes:
piercing bright!

We were never so close,
but in this respect,
we tortured the moments,
beheaded regrets.

A pain in much wanting
in greed, I suppose,
gnaws at me all evening
gnaws at my repose
gnaws at me tomorrow
gnaws at me just now.

Diyan ka lang!

           


             Kalat                     ka
  sa                 isipan    ko,
         ayaw                         kitang
                  damputin;
maski  ano         mang
                               mikrobyo,
     alikabok,                           ang
               dulot            mo,
ayaw                 kitang
                                            damputin.
 Magwawalis                   ako't
                    iiwa san     ka
                      maglalampaso't
iiwan     ka,      diyan
                  ka           lang   sa     sahig
                       sa isipan ko.
Kalat ka man,
                                             mahalaga'y
                                             ika'y nariyan.

Sa Parang

Ni hindi man lamang magluksa
ang buwan sa araw na pumanaw:
nilisan mo`ko't `di nagpaalam.
Katwira'y wala, wala ring dahil.
Marahil ay hindi ko napansin.
Nagpastol ako ng sakit habang
ika'y masaya nasaan ka man.
Walang tupa na lumalayo
sa parang, nariyan at nariyan
sila. `Wag mo nang isiping
magparamdam. Sa guni-guni
na lamang kitang tatawagin,
hahagkan, at mamahalin muli.

Relevance

I grow impatient, I grow weary.
Each day I feel a gnawing
at me—as though clawing
on my confines are beasts
of impertinence. Nonetheless,
I tire. I tire easy, fast,
I cannot imagine Sisyphus
being replaced by the limp me.
I tire easy. I grow weary fast.
How can I scale your mountains?
I cannot, actually, I admit.
Each moment that I waste
a pleasure on my part, or is it?
At least I rid myself of it.
Of what, the burden? The turmoil?
The effort? The irrelevance?
It is, I conclude, irrelevant—
this intuition of mine. I feel
the gnawing at me. I cannot
force the tears out; these beasts
do not allow it, nor can I
force a sigh of unrest, as
these beasts would not suffer it.
What was irrelevant again? Oh, my
intuition! I stand corrected!

All is irrelevant!

To Clamp

The scent lingers – monggo
Is it Tuesday, I thought
To myself, my weary self,
Distraught self, downtrodden self
Self-pity, self-abnegated
Abnegation? I apologise
For the extravagance—

That is you, the stem
Of humongous bougainvillea
Without the city walls,
But which one?

That is you: a pearl hidden
Well inside a giant clam
As big as the car wherein
Clowns with their apprentices
Force themselves in for an audience.

I look down, I cannot even see it.

The Pearl

Precious pearl - what value,
what cost, what intricacy
in the eyes of many who
see you as thus. Do you
savour attention, precious pearl?
Bid me look at thee, bid
them write poems about thee?
Which of these do you not claim to be:
the poignant constellation,
perfumed carnation,
Japan's cherry blossoms,
Virgin Mary's bosom,
the pastures in spring,
sunsets in coasts,
Coney Island, New York;
what we fancy the most,
but you remain the round pearl,
but elegant, adamant, what
had irked me the most
is finding out you are counterfeit.

Math & Affection

In love there is no math, but there comes a sum of consequence after the addends of action. In love there is no math, but for one to truly comprehend the other there must be a division of perspective. In love there is no math, but a fraction of feeling multiplies itself into wholes under the roof of affection. In love there is no math, but to prove that both sides contribute to each other in congruence requires such an essence. In love there is no math, but an influx of emotion demands heart to be compressed into the notation of patience and proper behaviour. In love there is no math, but the value of companionship when in the possession of another is bound to become converted, become changed. In love there is no math, but amid the enormity of devotion it can be weighed. In love there is no math, and the trajectory of attraction knows no definite angle, but ends at one definite point nonetheless.

There can never be math in love, but like math we all end up loving despite our differences in method; we all end up loved despite whatever trial or error.

Offshore Zone

In shallow waters, I tread barefoot:
I know there is a deep descent;
I fear for my self, I fear for my welfare—
I know not where it lies.
Despite the circumstances,
the waters never as they are,
I choose to tread barefoot.
Is there a deep descent?
I know not;
I fear for myself, I fear for my welfare.

Repurposed Romance

A chance meeting—swiftly you came

Tenderness in idleness,

happiness in brusqueness, I had

underestimated chance,

repurposed romance also.

Solemnity in mundanities

defies the postulation:

a romance is born in

yonder places, yonder times.

Fidelity in song was how we

rendered an interesting tale.

Italicised movements unnoticed

daunts the very heart of me;

and the reveries in between them,

you intensify sevenfold.

Seemingly courageous,

and hopelessly yearning,

to my surprise, we had reached

an understanding.

Retreating is no option when

delusions lie within my confines

and besides, within your confines,

your offer is (irresistible) Nirvana.

Stunted by the reverence of things

under the sun of well-rooted belief,

neither did I wish nor want; how

did you know that I miss you?

An ensemble of thoughts; from there,

you became my delight and I yours.

Strangers to Death

"Death does as death pleases"

He assertedy whiffs, eyes stiff looking forward
His humongous breath bids farewell and fades
With dread on his mind, he patiently waits
A hardworking father to a family of six,
Minus one last month, another today

It all occurred so fast –
A mini-series of unwanted episodes

                       Suspicion

He thought at first but with reluctance
Tomas is only addled, frustrated
He scrolls down only to reveal more
He discovers a confusion had wrought
In the fragile confines of Tomas

He nudges Tomas; the boy replied:
"Father, do not be dismayed;
it is for certain nothing of your doing."
This had him absolutely dismayed

"Tomas, I can see that you are mad
Mad at what, son? Kindly tell me,"
"Father, madness does not define
these recurring sentiments of mine
I pray that you will no more ask me"
He concurred, albeit not to his liking.

                            Tumult

In December he met the weary Tomas
Tomas had become thin and uncomely
It was never for Tomas to enjoy indelicacy
Especially when it comes to self-maintenance

The other three wondered at the drastic change
Tomas intently avoided their many questions
Tomas, however, can never neglect his father
"Tomas, have you eaten? Let me make you some stew"
"Father, I am grateful but I need no remedy"
"You need to eat, Tomas. Mama would not like this"

The eyes of Tomas lit up like a burning house—
Intensely rapid and growing in size
Tomas held eruptions in his mouth
He noticed, "Tomas, I am sorry"
With obvious fury, he makes a show
Of passive force: "You disgust me"

                          Ostentation

No word from Tomas – had him whiff often
Every cloud a cry for Tomas to come home
At work, he remains gaily moving about
At home, he remains deeply troubled

The pleasure of smoke on the body
Confounds the pain that is in regret
Overshadows the evils of self-pity
Extinguishes the flames of tears held back

In February at Mama's mausoleum
Are flowers and lit candles carefully placed
Although the rift stops him from cursing at heaven
He whispers his worries to his patient wife

"Tomas is addled, Tomas is distraught
It seems that Tomas does as Tomas pleases
Why had you left him without prior notice?
Tomas curses at me then at his siblings
Tomas curses at me with much relevance
Deprived of the arms of your love,
Tomas throws his rocks at the sky"
Without a reply but in much satisfaction
He breathes out a cloud and waves his goodbyes

                            Remedies

The porcelain ashtray has broken in two
Like the bubog thrown away this Monday
It is surely doomed for the trash bin
Does he need to acquire another?
Perhaps this event meant to say
He ought to with wanting break his habit

He had once vowed to sip no more
From the cheap poison that is cheap gin
"Promises are made to be broken"
He foolishly whispered to himself
"It is timely that I follow my beloved wife
to the heavenly grave at sixty-seven"
He foolishly whispered to himself
His whispers drowned the crackles

Sparks flew wildly in the kitchen
The crackling continued to oscillate
His eyes had widened like billiard balls
The crackling omitted a faint light
Eureka, there was light!
As quick as the alcohol had crept
Through his floors just last night
Was the prayer of a miserable father
Given with brusqueness a surefire answer

                           Yonder

"What now?" he asks her with unrest
"Let Tomas curse at heaven
Let Tomas sleep with twenty women
Let Tomas with haste drive into a river
Let Tomas overdose on whatever
Let Tomas squall at his bathroom mirror
Let Tomas before being shot himself
Shoot twelve fourteen twenty schoolchildren
Let Tomas finally sleep in peace at a hospital
Beside thirty-three grandchildren
Tomas does as Tomas pleases"
"In that case, Tomas will be with us soon"
"In any case, Tomas will be with us soon
Tomas does as Tomas pleases."

He assertedly whiffs, eyes stiff looking forward
His humongous breath bids farewell and fades
A hardworking father to a family of six,
Minus one last month, another today
Four more in separate four days

Lenses

Look at the past
With lens of the present

Look at the present
With lens of the future

Now look at the future
With lens of the past

Look again

Likening

Sparrows fly without minding the doves,
Doves hop without minding the dogs,
Dogs run about without minding the grass,
Grass flow without minding the cattle,
Buffalo graze without minding the herons,
Herons fish without minding the plankton
Fish swim about without minding the whales
Whales glide without minding the sharks
Sharks eat without minding the gulls
Gulls settle without minding the eagles
Eagles soar without minding the albatross
Albatrosses rest without minding the crabs
Crabs walk without minding the turtles
Turtles age without minding the fish
Tortoises crawl without minding the snakes
Pythons slither without minding the prey
Capybara walk without minding the monkeys
Monkeys swing about without minding the sloths
Sloths doze off without minding the spiders
Spiders weave without minding the woodpecker
Tarantulas wait without minding the mole
Moles dig without minding the earthworm
Worms pierce without minding the host
Leeches suck without minding the same
Crocodiles lurk without minding the waters
Wildebeest gather without minding the zebras
Antelopes gallop without minding the giraffes
Vultures scavenge without minding the hyena
Lions prowl without minding the cheetah
Tigers roam without minding the panther
Panthers bathe without minding the otter
While man cannot do without minding the other.

Roads Not Taken

Traversing from the road oft-taken
is not that big a change when
the other road is just as broad.
Horizons come anew each day;
sometimes blocked entirely
by stormy clouds, torrential rain.
Roads not taken are often taken
and greener pastures oft have cattle.

The Secret of the Vagabond

Manila's bustle is the lullaby
for the vagabond.
Unrest makes droopy heads
careen like ships at anchor;
to where they sail,
I do not know.

While thoughts of concern
and unwanted worry
prove the fear of the vagabond,
diligence is what best defines
the vagabond.

Slums in the the metro sing
songs that no man's ears
can catch.
Their songs flutter around
like butterflies—no, moths—
bound for the lamplight, maybe?

The vagabond strut as if void
of all trouble;
the vagabond answer back
to distress calls by hope.
Over time green eats ruins
and pastures are reset.

Many are shaken by
the agony of the vagabond
but what many do not see
are their hallelujahs when
the many are asleep and
they are awake.

In the Bus beside a Lady

Shy eyes wander here and there in desperate hopes of getting sleep. Mine mistakenly fall upon hers; it only gets exciting.

My skin tingles against hers. She does not mind at all – the warmth of how I steal a look.

She jerks awake and with her fingers, she combs her hair. Studying where we are, she lifts her chin up, still combing. I forgot her awareness; she noticed me look. To my shame, I managed to fall asleep only to wake up to find her gone.

Coin Collection

Place your hand on mine.
Let's go to where
the sunlight dances;
And there we sip some wine
Like many other foul romances.
Let's cuddle tous les jours;
And in between we breathe
some air; we'll suck each other's lives.
We will pull each other's hair.

Surrender to my longing.
You know you want to come home, dear.
You know you want me, darling.
I know you know I want your kiss.
You know I know you want this blissful
Every day I sing the blues—
The birds they sing along
To the tune of my delusion,
To the tune of all bowed heads.

Collected coins are flipped
To know perchance when you'll be home.
Is it a matter of 'if'?
The uncertainty is piercing
Skin monumentally deep
But bleeds before the eyes of all.
You left me while asleep
And after that you wouldn't call
me nor will you hear the words I sing.