Jaime Jesus Borlagdan - poems - PoemHunter.com

Poetry Series

Jaime Jesus Borlagdan- poems -

Publication Date: 2009

Publisher:Poemhunter.com - The World's Poetry Archive

Jaime Jesus Borlagdan(March 6,1979) Jaime Jesus Borlagdan is a Filipino poet, song-writer, graphic artist and musician.He writes in three languages, but presently uses his native tongue Albay-Bikol.He has published a book of Tagalog poems Maynila: Libro ng Pobya (Manila:Book of Fears) in 1999, which is now considered by his young followers as animportant and influential collection. His recent works in the Bikol language havenot yet appeared collectively in printed form except in his blogsite Suralista () .He works as a consultant at Tabaco City Hall, in Tabaco City Albay. He lives withhis wife Caren and daughter Radha. Marne Kilates, poet, writes:Jaime Jesus Borlagdan is, by all indications, one of the main tributaries from theAlbay sector feeding into the onrushing river of writing that’s happening in theBikol language today. One of the most active in literary writing in the Web today,Borlagdan, maintains two sites: a website for his works at * * *A Rush of Metaphors, Tremor of Cadences, and Sad SubversionsNotes on the Poetry of Jaime Jesus BorlagdanBy Tito Genova Valientetitovaliente@ The first time I read the poems of Jesus Jaime Borlagdan, Jimple to those whoknow him, I felt immediately the seething movement of the words. There was arush of metaphors in his works. I immediately liked the feeling that the rhythmcaused in one’s reading for poetry, in my book, should always be read aloud. Iwas hearing the voice. It was a voice that happened to sound from afar and itwas struggling to link up with a present that would not easily appear. It was heartbreaking to feel the form. I felt the lines constricting. I saw thephrases dangling to tease, breaking the code of straight talk and inverting themto seduce the mind to think beyond the words. Somewhere, the poems werereverting back to direct sentences, weakening the art of poetry with its universeof ellipses and nuances, but then as suddenly as the words lightened up, thepoems then dipped back into a silent retreat, into a cave, to lick its own woundsfrom the confrontation that it dared to initiate. For this column, I decide to share parts of the longer paper I am writing aboutthis poet.

1www.PoemHunter.com - The World's Poetry Archive

In Karangahan, the poet begins with: Bulebard, ikang muymuyon na salog/kigatas buda patenteng nakahungko, /ako ngonian kahurona. Borlagdan translatesthis into: Boulevard, you forlorn river/ of milk and downcast lights/ speak to menow. Savor the translation, for in Bikol that which is a dialog has become anentreaty.) The poet is always talking to someone but in An istorya ninda, an osipon ta, hetalks about a the fruits of some narrative: Ta sa dara nindang korona kita anhadi/ sa krus, kita su may nakatadok na espada./Naitaram na ninda an saindangistorya./Punan ta na man su satong osipon./This I translate as: For in the crownthey bear we are the King/ on the cross, with the embedded sword./ Marvel atthis construction, as the poet cuts at the word “hadi” and begins the next linewith “krus” and the “espada.” Marvel, too, at how he looks at conversion andfaith, a process that made us special but also wounded us with ourselves stuckwith the sword. Finally, the poet says those lines of the true believer: They have already spokentheir story, now let us begin with our tale. The poet does not have a translationbut will the istorya in this line be “history” and osipon be “myth.” Shall these lastfour lines in the first stanza be both a subversion of our faith embedded in aforeign culture or a celebration of what we are not, and what we have notbecome? Puni na an paghidaw. Puni na an pagluwas/hali sa kwartong pano ki luha, punina/an paghiling sa luwas kan bintana./Puni na an paghidaw para sabinayaan./Puni na an pagsulit sa daluging tinimakan./Puni na an paghidaw samga sinugbang utoban. Terrifying lines as the poet calls us to begin theremembering and also begin the moving out from the room full of tears. In thepoet’s mind, the lacrimarum vale or valley of tears had become an intimate areafor instigating his own release. The rhythm is there as in a prayer. But it is no prayer. There is the repetition butit is not a plea. There is the self but it is one that has turned away from itself intosomething else. That self is one that shall face the recollection of the faith thathas been burned. And yet the poet, resolute when he wants to, loves to sing and hint of fear andanxiety. Even when he is merely observing children playing in the rains, hesummons images of terrible beauty. The skies become diklom na pinandon na“may luho” (with hole) . From this hole, comes the sarong pisi ki sildang/ tisuhonna buminulos. The poet stays with this metaphor with such intensity that the


silken thread coming from the hole justifiably becomes luhang garo hipidon nabusay/paluwas sa mata/kan dagom. Dark wit and a penchant for the horrifyingare tandem graces in these lines. This is the poet who can, without self-consciousness, tell us of the …haya/kanmga ayam na namimibi/nakakapabuskad ki barahibo/nakakaulakit ki lungsi. Hewhispers of “halas na rimuranon, malamti/sa hapiyap kan mga bituon.”This is a startling universe, where dogs pray (and bay) , and where fears bloomand paleness afflicts and infects, and serpents are caressed by the stars.


[su Yaon Sa Tore] / (The Ones In The Tower) Su yaon sa toredakol an arammanungod sa kinabanna saindang pigdudukuan:an gabos daa tarakodsa sarong banal na balanselangit kontra daga o dagatmga eternal na kontrapesosa planadong pisaranmatematikang pigbilang an kawaran,katotoohan, pinatagas sa altar na salmingmga gwapong kabayong nagrarabassa de pakpak na hurop-hurop.Dai man mababasol ta hali mananggad sa itaasan kinaban talimon kan perlasdaing tipak, daing rungas. Su mga nakahadok sa daga ugaringlaen man an pigtataram.Dai daa ninda aramkun ano an kinaban.An aram sana nindaiyo an pagmatekan pagtukad buda pagbulusokkan dalan.Mga daing herak na bulodki matarom na gapo buda basudna pigkakamangan kan nabulotnindang magabat na baktot. Abril 17,2007. Karangahan. English: The ones in the towerKnow a lotAbout the worldWhich they stoop upon:


Everything they say is connectedTo a holy balanceHeaven against earth or seaEternal weightsIn a pre-conceived scaleA mathematics of counting the emptinessTruth, immobilized in a glass altarBeautiful horses gallopingOn winged meditation.We can’t blame them for from the topThe earth really is a sphere of a pearlWithout a crack, without a scratch. Those who are pressed to the ground throughAllegedly don’t knowWhat the world is.The only thing they know ofIs the feelingOf the climbing and the fallingOf the path.Merciless hillsOf sharp rocks and sandWhere their stuck heavy loadCrawls. Jaime Jesus Borlagdan


Alimagyo / Storm Ini an gabat na hinuba kan langitsaralak an daga buda tubig. Kun isusurulit o susurusugon, an gubotgaro pagsuruwayan hale sa kugos na mapulot.Biribid an mga kalamias kan koryentebuda sanga, sarapi kan tanglaysa lambang saro sarablay.Mga dahon, mga batirisna puminakit kan bintana.Mga gasgas, mga dugaan nagtagas na gira. Gira kan dalan na buloskan dagat na luminakaw sa daga,kasubanggi sa irarom kan ipo-ipong bulanna an sildang pairarom sa sadiring diklom.Su kugos kan Habagat rapadong higotmaisog na duon na humalon an mawotsa kinaban sa sarong gugom na kamot.Halos daing takot, halos diit pang garo pagkamootna suminuklob sa gabos. Sa tinampo, sa ugatsu hinalat na sinabatkan kurutab-kutabuminaging buhing mga kabayo.Pagtundag kan alpogan aga tamong na gubot.Natada an daga na dai nang sulot.Duman sa pagtakdag kan buraksa ati na nag-aling sa gamot,suminupang an hamotkan gumos na awot.Sa pangalag-kalag kan liwanagsu linaw giraray nabilog.Sa napasang kaganan ini man sanaan nakasaray,sa haloy na pagkaykay,


ini an laog kan kalot.Pebrero 17 2005. Pawa English: This is the weight stripped off by the skymixed are the earth and water. If the disorder will be put back in place or traced,it would be like peeling away from a sticky embrace.Twisted are the limbs of electricityand branches, broken by strainslumped at each other.The leaves, the pebbleswhich tore the windows.Scratches, sapwere the solidified tracks. Marks of the gushing pathof the ocean which walked the earth,last night under the twister moonwhose beam was inward to its own gloom.The embrace of the Habagat, south wind, was a whipping tightbrutal pressure whose desire is to devourthe world in one clenched hand.Almost without fear, almost close to be like lovewhich enveloped all. On the roads, in the veinsthe waited which was metby anxietywafted like untamed horses.At the clearing of dustthe morning was a crumpled sheet.Remained was the soil naked.There in the falling of the flowerto the dirt which nursed the root,bloomed the scentof the trampled upon grass.In the surfacing of lightclarity again is formed.In the shattered container this alone


is what is keptin the long diggingthis is what's in the pit. Jaime Jesus Borlagdan


Amater Dai ka nangad daa magbuntogsa Amater, sabi kan ibakun dai man sanang pagkamootna kairiba.Mala malipot,baka maliptan,baka magmawotki makukupuan.Pero pano kun dai?Pano kun gapona malumot sanaan kahurohunlakan.Su gilid kan hagyanansana an kakurukairibanan.Mantang sa linaw kan iraromkan tubig na nagtatakig,pinagduwang mga kamadakan nagpapaimbong na mga unit. Asi, dai na pagbuntog,pigtataraman na,kun daing kairibangpagkamoot.Pag inuragan sa karapsawkan mga aki,baka pumaparos-parossa bulod kan mga burabod,baka makursunadahankan mga tawong lipod.Baka bumulasok na sanasa rusdusan na halaspaghugpa sa tubigdai na bumutwa.Hulyo 30 2004. Karangahan. English: Never dipin Amater, according to some


without accompanying love.Because it's chillyyou might get coldyou might wantsomething to hold.But what if there's none?What if only the mossy stonesare your romp-mates.The edge of the stairsyour only company.While in the clear depthof the shivering water,piles of twosof warming skins. I'm telling youdon't ever think about dippingif you don't have accompanying love.When you become annoyed with the horseplayof the kidsyou might want to cool offin the spring-giving hillsyou might be smittenby the tawong-lipod, the unseen.You might just plungedown the serpent slideand after reaching the waternever to surface again. Jaime Jesus Borlagdan


An Aki Sa Laog Kan Harong / The Child In The House Su silensiyo sa laog kan harongsu sa barayleng kawat pagpundo kan tugtog.Dai naghihiriro su mga bagay. Kiditsa pagpasan sa sadiri nindang sarayna kumugtakan: an mamugtak.Ini an saindang tibay, daing makadaog.Ini an pruweba kan saindang pagkagadan. Dawa pa, pinugol man giraray kan akisu saiyang paghangos. Ginugom su kamotnganing dai maglaylay pag natanglay.Binurarat su mata maski magruluhadai sana magpirok. Muya niyang mationan tagas kan mga tukawan.Saparon an pasensiyakan mga garapon na gapo.Sa arog kaini garo kairiba siyasa saindang paghalatkan sarong pag-abot na dai niya pa aram. Dinupa kan relo su rayokan dose sa sais. Tisuhonna ispin, nakatadok sa tahawkan matalimon na pansagang.Namamate niya an paghalikan saiyang pagmati.Sa higot kan saiyang gugomnalingawan niya su saiyang kamot.Sa linaw na nagdumig sa saiyang mataduminiklom su saiyang paghiling.Luminataw su isog kan saiyang tagassiniba su saiyang tulang.Arog na siya sainda:an liya-liyang nagtitipon ki liday,an kurtinang nag-iipos ki paglataw. Pag harani na an saiyang pagkalamosiisip niya na nagririrop siyang perlasna naguong sa batak sa kantil.


Kun minainit an saiyang daghaniisip niya na arog kaan an higotna kugos kan saiyang tatawanan. May saro na sanana dai siya napapapundo.Nagtutuktok ini.Arog pag bangging dai nang ribokpigtatahob niya an saiyang kamotsa tahaw niya nganing dai niya na madangog.Ngonian na napahalo na niya su gabos na tanogini na sana su nadadangog.Kan pinundo niya su gabos na paghironamate niya an paghiro kaini.Naglalakop hali sa kun sain na raromna maski nasa laog niya dai niya maturo.Nagtutuktok ini.Nagtutuktok ini sa saiyang tikab.Nagtutuktok ini sa saiyang kamot.Sa saiyang luong. Sintido. Rapandapan.Hanggan sa mapano siya ki mga tuktok.Garo siya naghalon ki mga duwendengdai nagagadan. Pigraraot kainian saindang laoman. Dangan kuminagrit siyasa puro kan kaya niyang tioson.Sa luwas, suminalak an tanog na inisa ikik kan mga bayong sa piot na manggabuda sa arual kan mga surusuan na makina. English: The silence in the houseis of the dancing game when the music stops.The things are still: strainedin carrying their own keptcondition: to be content.This is their skill, none can surpass.This is the proof of their deadness. Even so, the child still held


his breathing. Clenched his handto keep them from dangling in case of strain.Widened his eyes to the point of tearsjust to keep from blinking. He wanted to feelthe hardness of the chairs.Suffer the patienceof the stone jars.In this way, it's as if he belongsto their waitingfor an arrival net yet known. The clock stretched for the distanceof the twelve to the six. An unswervingspear, plunged at the centerof a circular shield.He feels the departureof his senses.In his clench's tightnesshe forgot his hand.With the clearness wetting his eyeshis vision darkened.His vicious hardness surfaceddevouring his bones.He has become like them:the rocking chair which gathers fluencythe curtain preparing its flight. Whenever drowning nearshe imagines himself diving for pearlsstuck between the cracks at ocean's trenches.Whenever his chest burnshe imagines it as the tightnessin the embrace of the one (for whom all of this will be given.) There's one more thinghe can't hush.It knocks.Like at night when the noises are gone,he places a handin his center to shut it off.Now that he had all the sounds silencedthis is what remains sounding.


After he had frozen all movementshe can feel it moving.Spreading out from a certain depthhe can not pin-point, even if it's within.It knocks.It knocks at his chest.It knocks at his hand.On his nape. Head. Underfoot.Until he is filled with knockings.As if he had swallowed deathless dwarves. They are tearing downtheir prison. Then he shriekedat the limit of what he can take.Outside, the sound blendedwith the screech of the birds in the crowded mangoand the howling of jammed engines. Jaime Jesus Borlagdan


An Astronomo / The Astronomer Kinadakulaan ko na an pagtangad.Puminuon sa mga kawatan kan kakawatna nakua sa aginaldo o kaaldawan. Pag ako naghagad kaini pero dai tinawanminahurok ako palaog sa sadiridai minaluwas, sagkod dai napaonrahan. Huna ninda habo ko sana magkakano pigtutuyo kong maghelang.Sa hadit kan magurang, bibakalan akokinaagahan. Muya ko nang magadanta maski paburubalintukon ko su kawatandai ko na mamuyahan. Sa pagdakula ko, nagdakula man su kawatan:su oro-awto nagin kotse,su harong-harong nagin babayi.Madalion pating tangadon,pano hararayuon. Arog kan enot, ako naghagad, ako natawan.Arog kan enot sa kada pagtao sakuyanawawara an siram.Puon kaito an matawannagin sarong takot,buda an pagmawotnagin pagkamuot. Kaya pagminatamong na an diklomsa bilog na lugar,pag dai na ki masabutan na itsurasa hibog kan itom,pag an kinaban sarong platoki mga daing namit na kakanon,minasirip na ako sa mga lentengnakapuntok sa harayo: sa mga kalag kan bituon,sa mga dai kayang kuwaon. Minatangad ako.Sigurado ako na dai matatawan. Matangad akong daing katapusan.


* Puwedeng man hilingon na garo ini pagbadilki mga bayong sa banggi.Sablok, bako sa kamawotanna maka-igo, kundi garo sa haratihitkan tanglay kan paghalat buda pag-asintakan habo man buda dai man makukua. English: I have grown used to looking upward.It started from the toys playmateshave gotten from aguinaldos or birthdays. Whenever I ask for these but not givenI crawl inward to myselfrefusing to come out until the wish is granted. They'd think it's just a stunt, my wanting not to eator I'm deliberately making myself sick.To my parent's misery, they'd buy what I wantedthe next day. I want to diefor whichever way I try to look at the toyI couldn't make myself want it. As I grew older, the toys got biggerthe battery-operated became gas-runnersthe playhouse became girls.For these the upward look had never been easierfor they had become even more distant. As in the past, I ask, I am givenas before, every time I receiveI lose taste.From then on, to havebecame a terrorand to wantbecame an affection.


So when darkness blanketsthe entire placewhen in the thickness of black, no shapecan be conceivedwhen the world is a plateof flavorless food,I look into my lensesaimed at far away: to the ghosts of stars,to those we can never have. I look upward.I'm sure I will never be given. I look up without end.*This can also be takenas shooting birds at nightravenous not for the desireto hit something, but as if for the burning stingof the strain of waiting and aimingfor something unwanted and impossible to have. Tagalog: Kinalakhan ko na ang pagtingala.Nag-umpisa sa mga laruan ng kalarona nakuha sa aginaldo o kaarawan. Pag ako humingi ngunit di binigyansumusuot ako papasok sa sarilidi na lumalabas, hanggang hindi napagbibigyan. Akala nila ayoko lang kumaino sinasadya kong magkasakit.Sa pag-aalala ng magulang binibilhan akokinabukasan. Nais ko nang mamataydahil kahit saan ko tingnan ang laruandi ko na ito magustuhan. Sa paglaki ko, lumaki rin ang mga laruan:yung oto-oto naging kotse,yung bahay-bahayan naging babae.Ang dali pating tingalain,kasi napakalayo. Tulad nuon, ako humingi, ako nabigyan.


Tulad nuon sa bawat pagbigay sa akinnawawala ang sarap.Mula nuon ang mabigyanay naging takot,at ang pagnasaay naging pag-ibig. Kaya kapag kumukumot na ng dilimang buong lugar,pag wala nang maintindihang hitsurasa kapal ng itim,pag ang mundo isang platong walang lasang pagkain,sumisilip na ako sa mga lentengnakatutok sa malayo: sa mga kaluluwa ng bituin,sa mga hindi kayang kunin. Tumitingala ako.Sigurado akong di mabibigyan. Tumitingala akong walang katapusan*Maaari ring tingnan na parang pagbarilng mga ibon sa gabi.Hayok, hindi sa kagustuhanna maka-sapul, kundi parang sa kirotng ngalay ng pag-antay at pag-asintasa ayaw naman at di naman makukuha. Jaime Jesus Borlagdan


An Dai Labot / The Unconcerned Ini an mga orasna nagsa-sign-off na an radyo.Isipon mo an banggi sa luwasan kadaehan na ribokna pigaapod tang katoninungannagsasalakna garo pades ki kamotki mag-ilusyonnagsasaro sa sarong kaputanna higot. An mga turog na lawassa irarom kan mga atopan bituon buda itom na langitsa itaas ninda, kaipuhan gibuhon giraraysa saindang turog na isip. Buda an gabos tang hinampangna garo may laog buda kantidadkan an liwanag yaon pangonian saro nang hewasna an laog dai ta na kayang sabuton,saparon. Diklom sanabuda mga harong, ogis na ilaw,winalat kan mga turog na kadsadiri. Aram ko igwa manki naghihiriro sa irarom kan diklomsa luwas.Pigsasabat an lipotna garo pag-sabot buda pag-ako,pigkukugos an sadiri, pigsasapar an sadiri.Yaon sa luwas, sindang harayo sa imbong:batok kan ayam, dangan arualagrutong kan makina, pawaraparani sa harayo. Pagnadadangog ta sindamas minasiram an lumoy


kan maimbong na ulunanmas ilubong ta an sadirisa hibog kan tamong. English: This is the hourwhen the radio signs off.Think of the night outsidethe noiselessnesswhich we call peacecombininglike lover'spair of handsfusing to one tighthold. The slumbering bodiesunder the roofsthe stars and the dark skyabove them, needs to be recreatedin their sleeping minds. And all that we have facedwhich we thought had contentwhen the light was still hereare now one breadthwhose substance we can no longer understand,suffer. Only the darkand the houses, white light,left by the sleeping owner. I know there are alsomovements beneath the darknessoutside.Meeting the coldlike knowing and acceptance,embracing oneself, suffering oneself.There outside, are those away from warmth:barking of dogs, then howlinggroan of machines, fadingnearer to far away.


When we hear themmore comfy, the softnessof the warm pillow becomesdeeper to the thick sheetsourselves we burry. Jaime Jesus Borlagdan


An Dalan Kan Sinayumahan / The Way Of TheRejected Hunaon ta an hurop-hurop kan sinayumahan, mantang pigdadara kaini an sadirisa ulian. Hihidalion niya an paghali sa pinangyarihan, kun hain an saiya nagpahali;muya niyang masampot tulos an sarong sirungan. Mala sa gubot na dai niya masabutan sa laog, muya niyang masampottulos an madali masabot. An hurop-hurop kan sinayumahan, hunaon ta, mantang sa madiklom naagihan pigmamati niya an dalan. Sa saiyang timak saralak an gapo buda awot,pero anas panas an saiyang namit, an saiyang tanda, puros tunok. Sa pandong kan mga patente kan banggi an brilyanteng nabibilog sasaiyang mata pigrarayo niya an silyab. Pigtatais an saiyang lambang lakad kan tarom kan tipak na mga batiris.Pigsususog niya sa batak sa paril an pasa sa saiyang laog. Dawa anong dali-dali, halaba ining banggi arog kan pagtagbo kan dai namakakaagi. Dai tulos matatapos an muya nang matapos, dulo na maduso anhaldat na pigtitios. An muyang lingawan lalo an linaw sa piyong, sa diklom dulo an libong,dulo an pagtalibong sa puon. English: Let us approximate the thoughts of the rejected, as he carries himselfhome. Quickly, he will leave the place where it happened, the place where theone who left is in; he wants to arrive at a shelter immediately. Because inside is a tangle he cannot undo, he likes to quickly reachsomething easy to know. Let us approximate the thoughts of the rejected, while in the dark pathhe feels for the way. In his every step stones and grass combine, but all he cantaste is sharpness, all he remembers are thorns. Under the canopy of night lights, he veils the brilliance of the gem that isforming in his eyes. His every step is grounded by the blade of broken pebbles; he traces inthe concrete cracks the shards within him. No matter how he hastens, the night is long like meeting one who will notarrive. What is brought to a stop hurriedly will not end, the sting of injuries willache more while suffered. The clarity of what is to be forgotten intensifies in the closing of eyes,


perplexity increases in the darkness, one circles around the beginning evenmore. Jaime Jesus Borlagdan


An Estranghero / The Stranger Sa tahaw kan paoro-otro nindang piggigibonag-abot su estranghero.Arog an lagapak kan sarong gabatsa dai naghahangos na tubig. Guminiboining singsing ki pagmuklat. Pinalibutan ninda siya sa talimonkan saindang pagmaanarog an nadudurat na ayam. Mala sa pandok niya an pinilaan na labodkan ogma na aram nindang gibo sanakan sarong bulawan na panahonna dai na ninda naabutan. Muya garo nindang haprusonan lawas niyang ibidensiyakan sarong suanoy na osiponpero takot na magduotta garo pakpak kan kalibambangbaka marunot. Para sa osipon na inisa daghan ninda duminagusoan sarong dayong pagmate: pagmawot.Dai ninda aram kun ano an dapat gibuhonkaya pinadagos ninda ini—siya.Dangan sa lambang saronaghanap ki pandokna baka lamang makamidbido makarumdom kan mga gawina bako naman sainda. Bako para saiyakundi sa tataramon niyakaya tinao muna ninda an tukawankan kagurangnan.Dinulot saiya an mga pagkaonna mga batala sana an nagkakakan.


Pinadurog saiya an mga babayingdai pa nadudutan.Dangan dai man ninda siertopero garo kaipuhan,nag-ogma sinda, nagtaong atang,bako para saiyakundi sa saiyang itataram. Kan nahubas na su mga dulayna pigkakaturugan kan alakpara ki Gugurang,kan dai nang bunuonsa gastadong kadlagan,kan su aning tinagamakan pirang henerasyonnaluwag na sa tuludan,su lugar na nawalatpagkatapos kan kaogmahanguminabat sa paghalat. Maalangaangon sa dakol na iuransu bangging nagtiripon sa mga tawosa estranghero.Sa dampog hirigotsu mga kikilatna nagkasarabodna garing mga ugat. Su katoninunganarog kan paghalat na maglaylaysu bitis kan bibitayon.Su mga duli-duling kinadakulaanna an paghuni dai naghunita garo may tataramon na importante. Danganhali sa estrangherokuminamang su Tataramonna garo bangogkan ngimot na haloy na nakasarapasiring sa mga tawong nagkamurungnan.


Haluyon sinda duman mga estatwang laman.Kun dai niyani huminugpa su urandai sinda maburuklusanpasiring sa saindang lambang kubo.Duman gabos sinda nakahiling sa babagaro mga naumayan na gadanmantang pigrurunot su dagakan mapanason na uran. English: In the middle of things they have always been doingthe stranger arrived.Like the crash of a weighton breathless water. It made rings of awakening. They surrounded him in a circlemade by their stareslike dogs in heat. For in his face were lash-scarsof an ecstasy they know possible onlyin a golden agewhich they have not seen.Perhaps, they wanted to caresshis body which is proofof an ancient talebut dared not to touchfor like the wings of butterfliesit would seem that he'd crumble. For this talein their chests surgeda foreign feeling: yearning.They didn't know what to doso they just welcomed this—him.Then they searched each other's faceshoping one amongst them might knowor remember the rites of oldwhich is no longer theirs. Not for him


but for what he's going to tell,they seated him to the throneof Kagurangnan, The Oldest.They offered him the foodonly a batala, god, is allowed to eat.They have laid with him womenno one has ever touched.And though they were uncertainyet seem to think as appropriate,they celebrated, they sacrificed,not for him,but for what he was going to tell. When the jars where the wine for Gugurang, The Ancient, sleepsbecame dry,when there was nothing left to slaughterin the exhausted wilderness,when the harvests kept for generations to comewere served,the place left behind by the festivitiesgrew heavy with waiting. Humid with expectancy of rainwas the night the people gatheredaround the stranger.In the cloudsthe lightning were tighttangled like veins. The silencewas like the waitingfor the feet of the hangedto dangle.The crickets who are used to chirpingdid not chirpfor as if something important was about to be said. Thenfrom the strangerThe Word crawled outlike a foulnessfrom a mouth long shut


to the people who were stunned. For a long time, they were there, statues of flesh.If the rain hadn't fallenthey will not fleefor their huts.Here they were all stooped downgazing like resurrected deadwhile the earth is being crushedby the sharp rain. Jaime Jesus Borlagdan


An Istorya Kan Sarong Awot/ A Story Of A Weed Kan nilaog siya sa harongarog kan awot na ginabot sa magapodangan tinanom sa maray na daga,kan su sinaray niyang isog nawaran ki kamugtakan,nagadan na man su pagmawot niyang mabuhay. Sa imbong kan mga lanobna daing lipot na pigpapalaogluminatang su saiyang tulangna napupungaw sa pangangaipoki paglakop. Su lawas niyang dai na nahihigotki punaw buda pakig-agaw,huminewas sa rasaykan ubos na mga laogan.Ta hali digdi kuminamangan dakol na burak kan buru-bangginiyang pag-utobsinurop su saiyang sapog.Natada saiya an masakrotna duga kan pag-alang. Dangan siya buda an bintanapagturog na an gabospigsasapar an haldat kan imonsa layas na mga bituon.Saro siyang awotna ginibong tinanom. Tabang saiya an panahonna maako an saiyang pagkatanom.An saiyang ogma mga ngiponkun kaipuhan niyang pahilingon. Naubos nasu saiyang mga ngipon.Sa balkon kan saiyang pagsulnop,pighiling niya su laog kan saiyang kamot.


Pigsusog duman su mga dalan kan salog.Punas na kan haloy na dai pagmawot. Bago abutan kan diklomluminuwas siya sa harong.Naglakaw na daing kiling,na garo dai nang kikilingansagkod maabotan lugar na daing kasiguruhan.An kadlagankun sain sana siya may kasiguruhan.Duman an paghangosna haloy pinugolgiraray pinunan. Enero 10,2007. Pawa. Tagalog: ANG KWENTO NG ISANG DAMO Nang ipinasok siya sa bahaytulad ng damong binunot sa batuhanat itinanim sa mabuting lupa,nang ang inimpok niyang bangis ay nawalan na ng saysay,namatay na rin ang pagnasa niyang mabuhay. Sa ligamgam ng mga lanibna walang lamig na itinatagoslumuwang ang kanyang mga butonghanap ang pangangailanganna lumaganap. Sa katawan niyang di na nahihigpitng gutom at pakiki-agaw,lumuwag sa dausdosng mga lalagyang ubos.Dahil mula rito gumapangang maraming yumi ng gabi-gabiniyang pagsunod


hinigop ang kanyang gata.Natira sa kanya ang mapaklangkatas ng pagtuyo. At siya at ang bintanasa tulog ng lahatdinarama ang kirot ng inggitsa mga bituin sa bangis.Isa siyang damongginawang halaman. Tulong sa kanya ang panahonna matanggap ang kanyang pagkabaon.Mga ngipin ang kanyang ligayakung kailangan niyang ipakita. Naubos naang kanyang mga ngipin.Sa balkon ng kanyang dapit-hapon,minamasdan niya ang loob ng kanyang palad.Binabakas duon ang mga daan ng ilog.Nabura na sa matagal na pagnais. Bago abutan ng dilimlumabas siya sa tahanan.Lumakad na walang lingon,na tila wala nang lilinguninhanggang sa maaratnanang lugar na walang katiyakan. Ang kagubatankung saan lang siya may katiyakan.Duon ang paghingana matagal pinigilmuling sinimulan. English: When she was housedlike a weed pulled from rocksthen planted on fertile soil,


when her kept wildness lost its sense,death came to her will to live. Under the warmth of wallswhich allow no coldnessher bones became lacylonging for the need to spread. No longer tightenedby hunger and competition,her body loosened in a fallof empty containers.For from this crawledmany flowers of her nightlyobediencesucking her sap.What was left of her is the bitterjuice of dried-ness. And when everything is asleep,she and the windowsuffers the burn of jealousyfor the wild stars.She is a weedmade into a plant. Time aids herto accept her plant-ness.Her happiness are teethwhen she needs to show it. She lost all her teeth.In the porch of her setting,she stares at the inside of her palm.Tracing there river paths.Erased by the long absence of desire. Before darkness reaches hershe steps out of the house.Walks without looking back,like there's nothing there to look back foruntil reaching


a place of uncertainty.The forestwhere she has certainty.There the breathingthat was long heldis again begun. Jaime Jesus Borlagdan


An Istorya Ninda, An Osipon Ta / Their Historia, OurOsipon Sa altar baga kan makasuriaw na suriyaw kan putisa puting simbahan sinermon ninda satuyakun ano an kamarayan kan saindang pagdatong.Napano su simbahan ki mga ragot kan ngipon.Ta sa dara nindang korona kita an hadisa krus, kita su may nakatadok na espada.Naitaram na ninda an saindang istorya.Punan ta na man su satong osipon. Punan ta kan magbuhat sindahali sa kama kan lanog tang laman.Saimo na giraray ini sabi nindasa sarong disyerto ki tulang buda paha.Itaram ta man daw na iba an kinabanna pigmamaanan kan naaatugan. Huyan sa labod sa saimong pulsoan halawig tang pagpulugos-pugoshali sa pagkakalawig sa gadan na sabsaban.Pugtas na an lubid, huni man giraray kitanagtatalibong sa marang kaawagan.Sa hampang kaining pasang litrato,taramon ta man daw an rayo kan pararaotsa paragibo. Pasiring na sa tuom na kabasan,pasiring na sa lati na pigliligidan kan layas.Puni na an paghidaw. Puni na an pagluwashali sa kwartong pano ki luha, puni naan paghiling sa luwas kan bintana.Puni na an paghidaw para sa binayaan.Puni na an pagsulit sa daluging tinimakan.Puni na an paghidaw sa mga sinugbang utoban. Uyam na sa istorya kan among may nagdudugong latigosu osipon naman kan ayam na sa irarom kan lamesa nagdadago.Ano na su mga suntok sa paril na lanob?


Ano na su suriyaw na tinahuban kan ulunan? Huni na kita gabos, palibot sa ilaw kan karaba.Huni na kita gabos. Sa bulod na nagpaparahay,huni na kita gabos. Rumdumon ta kun sainkita napundo, kun sisay su hudyan na nag-osip,huni na kita gabos, padagoson niya na.Kun dai na siyang maidudugang,punan na kan iba, basta punan na,huni na kita gabos, punan na. English: In the altar of the blinding scream of whiteon a white church they have sermoned to usthe goodness of their arrival.The church was filled with grounding teeth.For with the crown they bore we are the kingin the cross, we are the one with the sword-stab.They have told their historia.Let's begin with our osipon. Let's start when they rosefrom the bed of our beaten body.This is yours again, they saidto a desert of bones and thirst.Let us at least tell them the differenceof the world view of the trampled upon. There in the scar in your wristis our long strugglingfrom being herded to a dead pasture.The ropes are cut, still here we arewandering around the dry clearing.In front of this broken picture,let us speak of the distance between the destroyerand the maker. Head now to the unforgotten field,head now to the meadows rolled over by the wild.Initiate the longing. Start the stepping outof a room filled with tears, begin


looking out of the window.Begin the longing for the abandoned.Start mending the sprouts stepped upon.Begin the longing for the burned icons. Fed up with the story of the lord with a bleeding whipit's time to hear of the dog moaning under the table.What of the blows on the concrete wall?What of the wails muffled by the pillow? Here we are now, around the light of a torch.Here we are now. In the healing hills,here we are now. Let us remember wherewe had stopped, who was the last teller,we are here now, let him continue.If he has nothing to add,let the others begin, as long as we begin,here we are now, let us begin. Jaime Jesus Borlagdan


An Kanta Kan Dai Natutunong Na Uran / The Song OfThe Ceaseless Rain Dai ko masawod an dulumna hinalean ko.An huhugpaan ko aram kongdai ako masasabutan.Bubukahon ninda an mga burakna gadan an kolorsasaluhon an pagbulos kokan panassa tahaw kaini.Pero dai na ninda ako makukulugandai nang laog an buot ko–matang nakahilingtaros sa mga bagay. Sapuyunga ako kun mataram kong dai nang kamugtakan!Sapuyunga ako kun lumuwas an sa ngimot ko;Nangingiturugan pa ako. Disyertong daing sagkudan an pahaan nag-iinom sakuya.Ako an dai natutunong na uran.Dai ko masawod an duluman gabat sa diklomna nagsugo sakong paoro-otrongisapurak ko an sadiridigdi sa daga. English:The Song of the Ceaseless Rain The shade where I came fromis unspeakable.I will not be understoodby where I will fall down.They will open the flowersof dead colorand with its central spears


catch my flowing.But they will no longer be able to hurt mewith my feelings empty-while staringthrough things. Hit me if I say there's no more sense!Hit me if that'll come out of my mouth;I am still dreaming. A desert whose thirst is endlessdrinks me.I am the ceaseless rain.I cannot utter the shadethe weight of the dimthat ordered meto scatter myselfagain and againon this earth. Tagalog:Ang Awit Ng Di Humuhupang Ulan Di ko mabigkas ang lilimna pinagmulan ko.Ang babagsakan ko alam kongdi ako maiintindihan.Ibubuka nila ang mga bulaklakna patay ang kulaysasaluhin ang aking pagdaloyng tulissa gitna ng mga ito.Ngunit di na nila ako masasaktanwala nang laman ang aking kalooban-habang nakatingintagos sa mga bagay. Sampalin mo ako kung masabi kong wala nang kabuluhan!Sampalin mo ako kung lumabas yan sa aking bibig;Nananaginip pa ako.


Disyertong walang hantungan ang uhawang umiinom sa akin.Ako ang walang humpay na ulan.Di ko mabigkas ang lilimang bigat ng dilimna nag-utos sa aking paulit-ulitna isambulat ko ang aking sarilidito sa lupa. Jaime Jesus Borlagdan


An Ladop / The Dive Bago su dumog na hiling nag-ikog sa pahaling ambulansyaastang magin alpog sa dalan ki lobo buda estatwang hayopBago natunong su pasimbagan kan nakabikini buda sarwalsa pagpauntol kan bolang bados sa kulor, namamagat na maanBago napundo su burukudan, ngurahab kan radyo, ikik kan perikosa otik na kadlan, bago inunas kan ikos su balon na nabayaanBago naka-isip su saro na hanapon su aki, kan nakua, inubo,garo bagong mundag, kinugos ki maray ngani bako ika...bako ika Bago siya pinalibutan kan mironarog sa pagtipon kan mga ngabilsa pararom na tahaw kan burak Bago siya inula sa wash-out na parilpigpirit su daghan na su laog ikupsit Bago siya hinawas, tabang manassa tubig na nahangos—bago ini gabos, magayonon munang aldaw.Daing pirok-pirok an sildang.Siram sa paros kan pigdarang.Domingo kan mga pamilyang punawsa tapsik buda karapsaw.Aldaw kan pasiram. Ogma, ogma, ogma.Buda kawat kan paglukso sa tabla pasiring sa rarom na sampulong dupa.Nakadungaw su aki sa nagbubuyog-buyog na tampisa baba mga bansag na nagbubusol saiyana lumampaw. Arogon sinda. Gibuhon an kinaya,kun dai, kun dai—aapudon na binabayi! Saro sana, sa dungan na ibabawkan huhulugan, an kayang hilingon kan mata:an tubig o an salming. Sa salming nadungawan kan aki na nakatangad siya sa otik


na kalot kan daing dampog na tag-init:Nakapwesto siya—garo hali sa kalot maturon na halangkaw.Daing takot. Naghahalat, sasabaton su saiyang paglampaw. Muya niya na kutang bumaba, gamiton an hagyanumuli sa harong, magkurubong ki tamong,makikawat sa sadiri, itubay an mga kawatan,pero kinakan na kan supog kan nabuyoan gabos na agihan buda paagi.Pwera kaining tabla buda an paglukso digdi. Supog, bakong iyo an enot tang kagadanan?Sa enot tang lakad sa kalot, ini an usol.Ta ano an paggurang kundi paghawas hali sa pagkabulot.Kaya kan naghuhugpa siya sa tubig,sa salming naghahawas man siya hali sa kalot.An sabatan niyang takyag nakaunatnag-uumbasan pasiring sa tahaw.Ta sa tahaw, an nagsalming buda an salmingmasabatan sa daing tipwas na hiling. Nasagkod su tahaw. Napasa su ibabaw.Mantang nagtutundag siya sa kalot kan maluway na tubignakilingan niya su sadiring padagosna naghahawas, lampas sa tubig pasiring sa paros,lampas sa tablang kapinunan, lampas sa angog kan kahoynagsasalak sa anyil kan kahewasan. Sa ibabaw, narumpag su langit sa ogma.Sa pwersa kan palakpak, nakadangog giraray su kawali.Siguradohon baga sindang mahawas hali sa tubigan bago nindang pag-iribapasiring sa kinaban kan mga daing takot.Pero bago ini, aram nindang siguradong mangawngawna garo baka, manuno an sipon, mapungak-pungak na garo mauutsansu aki pagbutha kaini sa tubig.Ini na an hudyan niyang paghibi,pagkatapos kaini bako na siyang aki.Ta nganing mawara an saiyang supog,sa hampang kan dakol na tawokaipuhan siyang pasupugon.Ta sa iribahan kan mga maisog


senyal ki takot an masupog.Ini su palabas na pighahalat. An katapusan kan kawat.Kaya niyani hinanda na kan ama su kamera.Su ina pig-arikos na su isasabat saiyang twalya.Pero su pighahalat baga ninda haloy nang nakahawas.Itoon na ito sa dahilan kun nata sa banggi, kita nagtatangad.Kasubago pa tapos ining kawat.Sa tubig, su dai ninda maaako padagos na naglulubog sa labog kan bakong makaulok na rarom. English: Before the wet look tailed the leaving ambulanceuntil the path of balloons and animal statues became dustBefore the bouncing dialogue of the color-pregnant ball, the in-heat glanceshalted between those in trunks and bikinisBefore the game of tag ceased with the blast of the radio, screech of the parrotcaged in a false jungle, before the cat sneaked into the forgotten foodBefore someone remembered to find her child, when found, carried himlike a newborn, embraced with thank God it wasn’t you...it wasn’t you. Before the onlookers crowded around himlike a gathering of lipsaround the deepening center of a flowerBefore he was poured to the washed-out floorhis chest forced to eject its contents Before he was fished out, bloated fatwith the water he inhaled—before all this first a beautiful day.The ray was unblinking.The air, luscious with the grilled.Sunday of families hungryfor a splash and horseplay.A day of leisure. Joy. Joy. Joy.And the game of jumping from a plankto a depth of ten arm stretches.The child looks down on the wobbling brinkbelow are the nasty names pushing him


to jump. To be like them. To do what they have endured,if not, if not—they’d call him a girl! Only one, on the simultaneous surfaceof the landing is visible to the eye:the water or the mirror. On the mirror the child sees himself looking up in the falsepit of the cloudless sky:He is positioned—like from the pit he’ll spring high.Fearless. Waiting, to collide with his fall down. He already wanted to climb down, use the stairsgo home, hide under the sheetsplay with himself, lay with his toys,but all the possible ways and way outare eaten by the shame of the one placed on the spot.Except this plank and the jump from it. Shame, isn’t this our very first death?In our first step to the grave, this is the push.For what is aging but climbing out of being stuck in a hole.That’s why while he’s plummeting to the water,in the mirror, he’s soaring out of the pit.His colliding arms are stretchedracing towards the center.For in the middle, the one looking and the looking-glasswill meet in a fixed stare. The center is reached. The surface breaks.While he’s sinking to the pit of the slow waterhe turned to see himself continuouslysurfacing, beyond the water to the windbeyond the plank where it began, beyond the forehead of the treesmixing with the indigo of outer space. In the surface, the sky fell down with the roar of jubilation.With the force of the applause, the ear of the pan was able to hear again.They were really sure that from the water will emergetheir new comradeon its way to the world of those without fear.


But before this, they know that he will weeplike a cow, his nose will run, he’ll gasp like a dying manwhen he surfaces out of the water.This will be his last crying,after this he’s no longer a child.To cure him of his timidityin front of many peoplehe needs to be shamed.For in the brotherhood of the fierceto be ashamed is a sign of fear.This is the anticipated show: The end of the game.That’s why the father already readied his camera.The mother already brought the towel which will meet him.But the one they’ve been waiting for had already surfaced a long time ago.He is already there to the reason why we look up at night.This game has long been over.In the water, that which they can’t acceptsank steadily to the murk of the unfunny depth. Jaime Jesus Borlagdan


An Pagbutas / Letting Go Pagnabobotod nasa paoro-otrong bagaybakong minawot mo manna magtukawsa tampi kan dagatisuka an gabos na piotsa kahewasanhangoson an kahewasanmuya mong kagan ki dagatan saimong daghan. A, pero an pagbutasgaro pagluwashalis sa nasusulong haronghaloy na tiniponpasiring sa maawotna haloy pigraraot. Paghinampang mo an dagatdigdi sa tampi kan kinabantatalikudan mo an mailaw na karnabalkun sain saro kang sirkerongnagtutulay sa alambre oru-aldaw.Pano na su mga palakpak?Pano na su ngaranna may patenteng nagkikimat-kimat?Pero nabobotod ka na sa paoro-otrong bagaymuya mong kagan ki dagatan saimong daghan. Kun siring, dangogon mo muna akomantang pigpupusak ko an sadirisa basuddangogon mo muna akomantang pigpupugulan an ikog kokan baybay. Dangogon mo akota arog ako kaini minagibong kahewasan.


An kada pagbalik sa hinaleangaro enot na pag-abot sa padumananan kada paghale garo may babayaanna dai na babalikan.An arog kaan na relihiyonkaipuhan mo munang dangogon.Bago mo ako mawotondangogon mo munakun kaya mong ipalisan dawa sarong tagdo kosa saimong daghanbuda pahukulon iningarog kaini. English: Drowning alreadyon repeating thingsdidn't you also longto sitalong the edge of the seaand vomit all the tightnessto the voidinhale the vastness—you want to put a seain your chest. Ah, but letting gois like moving outof a burning houselong compiledtoward the grasslong despised. If you'd face the seahere at the edge of the worldyou would be turning your back to the bright carnivalwhere you are an acrobatwalking the wire everyday.What will be of the applause?What will be of the namewith the blinking lights?


But you're already drowning on repeating thingsyou want to put a seain your chest. If so hear me firstwhile I dash myselfto the sandhear me firstwhile my tail is grabbedby the shore. Listen to mefor this is how I create vastness.Every return to originis like the first arrival to a destinationevery departure is like leaving someonewithout coming back.That kind of religionshould be heard first.Before you desire mefirst of all listenwhether you can poureven a dropp of meto your chestand make it wavelike this. Jaime Jesus Borlagdan


An Paghiling / Looking Kun gagamiton moan saimong matamakakahiling ka pero kun gagamiton moan saimong pusokun gagamiton mo an gabos mong kinabanna tinago sa kamunduanmakakahiling ka kada agasa mga awotsa gilid kan tinampoki kadlaganna dai pa nadudutan dai mo ini titimakanta mahihiling mona banal an tunogsa lambang dahondara pa an pandokkan kasubanggingnagsalming na unglo English: If you useyour eyesyou'll see but if you'll useyour heartif you'll use all your worldhidden in sorrowyou'll see


each morningin the grassbeside the roada forestnever touched you'll not step on itfor you'll seethe dew is holyin each leafcarrying the face stillof last night'smirroring unglo, monster. Jaime Jesus Borlagdan


An Parabayong / The Bird-Catcher Pagdiklom, aram niyang tapos naan saindang paghanap sa kahewasan.Basog buda paas sa pagkagrat,mapuon na an saindang pagkaturog.Dara niya na man an sakong laogan,luluway-luwayon an tinuom na dalanna awot sa diklom, pasiring sa higanteng pili.Bago sakaton an pigtaguan kan mga salag,minapatabi siya sa mga dai nahihiling.Sarong kumpisal ki berdugobago an pagsuklob kan itom na gibo.Pagnakasakat na, saka pa sana papalaadonan saklay niyang ispat.Duman su mga malipot na itsuranakabulukon sa sadiring katuninungan.An mga balukag toog na mga dagomsa lawas na turog an pagmati. Sa laog nindaan kikilat na hiro naglalayap pasa haralangkaw na langit kan pangiturugan.Sa langit kan mga bayongkun sain an paglayog daing kasagkudan.An mga matang nakahiling palaogmamuklat sa apod kan banaag. An iba makakalayogngani sanang mabanggasa nagsarabudan na diklom buda sanga.Dai sinda tuod na makigkigta dai sindang takot na midbid.Paros an saindang parasorog.Kaya kan pigpudo sinda saro-sarona garo mga bungang naghahangos,buka an saindang tukasa suriyaw na daing laog,an muklat na daing nahihilingkundi an suriaw kan saga.Pigtukis kan iba su kamotna pano nang pinilaan ki tinukaan,ta iyo sana ini an kayang isimbag


kan mga lawas na dinagusoki dakol na kangalasan.Pigpipirit nindang sabuton.Sa saindang pilik-pilik,nagbalik an saindang init.Dai ninda masabutan. Pagkapano, tinuok niya na su liogkan sako kan saiyang gugomnganing dai na maagaw kan parossu mga bayong.Dangan luminusad na siya sa diklom.Huminipa sa iya su mga aninipotbuda silyab sa tarom kan matakan naghihiriling na isog.Pero dai siya nadara.Huhugasan man sana siyakan lipot kan banggi.Buda malilingawan niya na inipag inapod na siya kan saiyang agompara sa pamanggi. Pagkaaga, su mga bayongyaon na sa hawlang pininturahanki kolor kan kadlagan.Sa hudyan, sa pag-ako kan mga inikan dai ninda masabutan,mauukudan ninda an pagtadong.Sa luwas kan eskwelahanitatangro sinda kan parabayongsa mga nagngangalas na aki,arog sainda dai masabutankun pano an sarong lawasna magian pa sa paroskayang ikaag sa laoman. English:As darkness starts, he knowsthat their search in the vastness is through.Well-fed, with voices hoarse with shriekingthey will now begin to sleep.Meanwhile, he has with him a sack


and will slowly thread a path by memoryto the giant Pili.Before climbing where the nests are hiddenhe offered excuses to the unseen.An executioner's remorsebefore the shroud of the dark deed is worn.Only after the top-climb is reached will he dare lightingthe flash lamp he carries.There the cold formsare curled around their own calmness.The feathers, stiff needleson a body with senses asleep. Within themthe flash movements still fliesin the high heavens still dreamed.In the heaven of the birdswhere soaring has no end.The eyes watching inwardopen to the call of the gleam. Some will be able to flyonly to smashto the meshed darkness and branches.They are not used to surprisesfor they know no fear.The wind is their shelter. So as they were picked one after the otherlike breathing fruits,their beaks were agapein an empty screamthe stare sees nothingbut the glare of the ray.Some pecked at the handalready covered with scars from pecking for this is the only responseby bodies overwhelmedby much awe.They tried to understand.With their squirmingtheir warmth returns.They can not understand.


Already filled, he strangled the neckof the sack with his clenchto avoid the wind's rescue for the birds.The he descended to the darkness.He was ambushed by the firefliesand the shimmer in the sharp staresof the watching wild.But he was not moved.He will be cleansedby night's coldness.And he will forget all of thiswhen his wife calls him for supper. In the morning, the birdsare now in a coop paintedwith the color of the woods.In the end, in their acceptanceof that which they can't understandthey will learn meekness.Outside schoolthey will be peddled by the bird-catcherto awe-struck childrenlike them they can not understandhow a bodylighter than aircan be caged. Jaime Jesus Borlagdan


An Tindera / The Storekeeper Ano an nasa mata kan tinderasa laog kan rehas na iskrin?Su pigmamawot dawkan gabos na paratinda—kwarta? Bako man gayodsaiya an tindahan na ito.Saka aram niyang pano naan kaha. Pero kaipuhanniyang maghalat. Ibahanan mga panindang dai pwedengmawalat. Baka nalaom siya.Pero kasubago binuksan niya su pinto,may tinapok sa basurahan.Naghiling-hiling pa nganisa tinampo, nagpahuruhayahaysa paros kan kaskaskan mga awtong pasiring sa kun sain.Huna ko bumalyo siya sa tinampo,pero uminatras, luminaog giraraydai nang luwas-luwas. Dangan, huni na naman siya nakatanaw sa luwas.Ano man an saiyang pighihiling—su bakanteng loteng kadlaganna nagsasabing bawal magtapok ki basura?Dawa nasa hampang, dai niya naman ini nahihiling. Kun may parokyanong minahaloypara sa halipot na huronihapot niya pirmi ini kun mapasain.An iba sa mga harayo maduman.Gurano karayo, lampas sa arog kaining lugar, mahapot siya.Lampas pa sa luminampas diyan,masimbag sinda. Nata, maiba ka?Rumdumon nindota nag-ulok naman kita ki arog kainikun masimbag siya kan pirmi niyang pigtataram:Dai— tama na ako digdi.


Pirmi sa sarong paaram iwalat an tindera.An saiyang mata arog an paghagadkan sarong dai nakakasawod.Pero aram niya na dai man maitatao,dai niya man maaako.Ibayaan siya kairibaan mga panindang dai puwedeng bayaan. Sa likod kan pahaling mga nakahuronnahihiling niya an saiyang buhay—naglalapag. Pig-aagda siya kainipasiring sa mga lugarna muya niyang maduman—sa lugarna siya an pigbabantayan, may kantidad;siya an pighahagadan ki mga istoryakan mga nabayaan—an saiyang buhay, parayo saiyamuyang mawara. English: What is in the eyes of the storekeeperinside the screen cage?That which all storekeepers desire—money? But I don't thinkthe store is hers.And she knows that the cash boxis already full. But she has towait. Attend tothe goods that shouldn't beleft alone. Perhaps she's locked up.But awhile ago she opened the door,threw something to the trash.She even looked aroundby the roadside, refreshing herselfwith the breeze made by speedof passing cars heading someplace.I thought she'd cross the streetbut she retreated, went back insideand stayed there. Then here she is again looking outWhat could she be staring at—


the empty lot of grasswhich says don't throw your garbage here?Even right in front of her, she could no longer see this. Whenever there are costumers lingeringfor a short chatshe'd ask always where they are going.Some to far places.How far, beyond this certain placeshe'd inquire.Beyond the place, beyond that certain place,they'd answer. Why do you wanna come?Let's not forgetfor we've also smiled like thiseach time she replies what she always say:No—I am fine here.Always with a permission to leave the storekeeper is left.Her eyes are like the beggingof one who can't pronounce.And she knows it can never be grantedshe'll never be able to accept.She's left with the goodswhich should never be left alone. Behind those leaving costumers she'd talked withshe can see her life—tagging along. It is beckoning hertowards the placesshe desires—in the placeswhere she is the one being kept, has a price;she is the story tellerfor the abandoned—her life, moving away from herwanting to vanish. Jaime Jesus Borlagdan


As Adam Is Narcissus In love only on still watersI turned away from my face: Round in my eyes is a world.Without the water, I have reflected myself into this: You. But wrong!for Reflection, I have neither your shapes Nor your controlInexact Copy, how is this so? The thunders ripen the rain.And they are ripe. Then, You are the falling that rippled my pondshattering my Other into spheres: A sudden butterfly shooting from the gray gardenturning my head towards a yellow trail of light From my vain mirror, awayHad my forgotten face in revenge, turned away in return? Or resumed loving even in unrequited pain?Only the frogs knew Which later, when the Great Voice yawnedall dived to bury their warts into the water. Jaime Jesus Borlagdan


Bantayi Na Ako Mantang Nagkakaturog / Watch OverMe As I Sleep Bantayi na ako mantang nagkakaturogmantang bukas an ilaw,arog kan gadan na piglalamayan.Mantang buhay pa ako,mantang an katurog koigwa pang gimata. Dawa dai mo na lugod ako alingonbasta igwa sanang mata sa taning komantang nagbubuntog an sakong pagkaisisa tubig kan pangiturugan,sa dai pagkaaram, sa dai aram;mantang bukas an sakong lawassa atake kan mga dai hiling na armas;mantang nagdudungaw ako sa hampasna lalakadan ko pag-abot kan oras. Marso 24,gahan. English: Watch over me as I sleepwhile the lights are onlike the dead in a wake.While I'm still alive,while my sleepstill has waking. I don't need you to nurse meas long as there's someone alive at my sidewhile my knowing submergesto the waters of sleep-images,to the not knowing, to the unknown;while my body is opento the attacks of unseen weapons;while I stoop down from the cliffwhere I will step off when the time comes.


Tagalog: Samahan mo ako habang natutuloghabang bukas ang ilaw,tulad ng patay na nilalamayan.Habang buhay pa ako,habang ang tulog komayroon pang pag-gising. Kahit di mo na ako arugainbasta merong gising na nakatabi sa akinhabang hinihila ang aking malaytungo sa tubig ng panaginip,sa walang kamalayan, sa hindi alam;habang bukas ang aking katawansa atake ng mga hindi kitang armas;habang nakadungaw ako sa talampasna lalakaran ko pagdating ng oras. Jaime Jesus Borlagdan


Children Isn’ t the greatest life to follow, children’s?They who fear only what they don’ t see,and everything, yes, everything is holy.What is order to them but the unnaturalintention of afternoons to put them to sleepand divorce them from their play.They with the courage to fly without provingthe reality of their wings.And after the rains, how many ships have they sailedto the infinite, to harvest the grains of timeand stopping it in pickle jars.Their nations depend on the treesand on how much shade they can give.Their wars are deathlessagainst the Nightand the monsters it breeds beneath the bedThe thunders, that loosen the shadows to the worldagainst the oppressive bars of rainagainst our wills, our reasons, our alien sizeThey experience their God’s closeintimate as their handsdipped on the waters of their bodyAnd god themselvesfor making the stonesspeak, the dark biteAnd the stars, how correct they namethe stars! Either the streetlights of heavenor the footprints of clouds. Jaime Jesus Borlagdan


Duwang Rawitdawit Para Sa Nobela / Two Poems ForA Novel 1Sa banggi, sa irarom kan mga limpoyna pagkaaga mga kahoy, may burakna minabuskad sa senyal kan patakdag na mga bituon.Iinum kaini an luha kan nakabantaysa bintanang daing pirot buda hungok,minabatad sa mundo kan solamenteng patente,minaayon sa yakig kan harayong hayakan gadja, sarong sayaw na labawki pagbalinghaw sa lawas na piotmuyang bikladon, hubaon... 2Kun bungog ka sa tanog kan pagraromkan diklom sa luwas kan bintanahilingon mo an senyal kan sakong kamotmantang pig-aagda takang rumanidigdi sa bukas na bintana.Ituturo ko saimoan rayo na nasagkod na kan banggisa pagpasyar kaini sa mga paultanankan mga kahoy.An nagtitimak sa awot na dumog ki tunognagsisirip sa kada bintana... Mayo 14,2007, Karangahan Translation: 1Night. Under the shadethat in the morning are trees, there is a flowerthat blooms at the sign of stars falling.It drinks the tears of the one watchingfrom the downcast, sleepless window,exposing to the world its one votive lamp,obeying the far baying


of dogs, in a dance that strugglesagainst the narrow dress of fleshaching to shed if off, tear it apart... 2If you’re deaf to the darkrising like a river outside the windowwatch for my hand signaling youto approach this open one. I will show youhow far the night has goneas it wanders towards the borders of the trees.someone is walking on the grass wet with dew,eavesdropping on each window... (translation by Marne L Kilates) Jaime Jesus Borlagdan


Hali Sa Treseng Tigsik / From Thirteen Toasts 1Tinigsik ko ining gapoan haraphap kong pusokaito pighagad mo sakokan pinalumoy kodai mo na tig-ako. 8Tinigsik ko ining dagadaing kintab pero bulawanbakong daragapero pig-iiriwalan. 10Tinigsik ko ining pilihararom na babayiintindiha sana an unit na itomta dai ka nanggad makakatanakan natok sa irarom. 11Tinigsik ko ining ibagibo kan dai nananaraaram nang an alsumlampas pa sa nganadawa ngororis nadawa nagroroluhadai mapundo sagkod dainapupunggol an dila. 12Tinigsik ko an pantominamahamis na banggi an dara-daradawa hinghing na sanakan uminabot sakuyaiyo man girarayan sa daghan kominarugba.


13Tinigsik ko an baraylihankan mga burak buda ayamnasa mga ayam sa puon an pagtiosnasa mga burak sa hudyan an pagluyos. English: 1I toast to this rockmy rough heartbefore, you asked it from mewhen I had it softenedyou refused it. 8I toast to a piece of landwithout sparkle yet goldnot a maiden but fought over. 10I toast to this Pili nuta woman deepmind only the dark peeland never will you be able to tastethe juicy sap beneath. 11I toast to Ibawork of those who never learnknowing already that the tanginessis beyond too mucheven though grimacingeven though weepingthey will never stopuntil their tongues are blunted. 12I toast to Pantominacarrier of sweet nightalthough a whisper


when it reached my earit's still the wreckerof my heart. 13I toast to the danceof the dogs and flowersit is for the dogs at first to sufferit is for the flowers in the end to wither. Jaime Jesus Borlagdan


Karanghan Bulebard, ikang muymuyon na salogki gatas buda patenteng nakahungko,ako ngonian kahurona.Osipa sakuya, dalan kan banggian dago kan mga kabasanna inilubong sa semento mongsementeryo.Minadaruydoy kang tanusonsa daghan kan Panal buda Bombondaing hungok an tuklangkan saimong tagas, kan saimong bulos,mga sikad kan rapak na sikad-sikad,halak-hagak kan rogadong mga awto.Arog kan hiro kan patubigsa pahang mga paroypasiring sa maduging labogankan damulag,kan mga suanoy na kaitokan ratsada kan nag-oorogmangmga para-oma.An gabos na minahampang saimo, masaparkan gabat kan kurtina kan gabos na anino.Mala an makagirabong pagpamatisaimo nagpapasyarpag naluluktusan kan pagreparosindang naggururang.Kaya malaogon saimo an hayakan mga ayam na namimibi,nakakapabuskad ki barahibo,nakakaulakit ki lungsi. Dalan ka gayod panopasiring sa sarong panahonna naghihibi.Sa limpoykan saimong mga kahoyan mga harong kan ngoniandangan an tumatawong multo,naghihimati.


Nangangagda an mga kamotkan mga kurtinang puti,pig-aapod an mga awotsa sakuyang tikabna sa mga nilubungankan nakaagi, tumalubo.Duman ito sa mga payagna itinindog kan marurugi,sa panahon kan mga pagsulnopna ihinigot kan mga orasyon, 'bagting kan alas-sais,pangadyion. Halas na rimuranon, malamtisa hapiyap kan mga bitoon,an mga hinalon modai na mailuluwa,an itataram mo halaba,pinugol sa tampikan piniripit mong dilasa saimong karatan, silot iyansaimo kan kinaban. Magtaram ka ngonian,pigsusugo taka.Dai na pagtipayata dakop ko naman sanaan paggumos kan saimong pandok.Hali sa dai mapahungok mong lawas,lumuwas ka.Sa mga badong isinulot mosanlia an saimong kapinunan.Mari digdi sa taning kota dai akong aram.Osipani daw ako kan kaitokan ika sarabatonkan mga bolang kalayo,kan mga pading daing payo. Hunyo 14 2004 Karangahan English:


Boulevard, you forlorn riverof milk and downcast lightsspeak to me now.Tell me, path of nightthe moan of ricefieldsburied under your concrete crypts.You dribble unbrokenlyalong the chest of Panal and Bombonrestless is the pushof your hardness, of your flow,pedalings of the worn out pedicabs,croaks of tired vehicles.Like the motion of irrigationto the thirsty palaytoward the muddy soak-bathof carabaos,of the ancient long time agosof the merry-making farmer's wit.All those that face you, will sufferthe weight of the curtain of all shadows.For a chilly presencein you strollswhenever the agingare overlooked.That's why in you loaded are the howlingof dogs in prayer,hair-raising,pale-infecting. Perhaps because you are a pathtoward a timethat mourns.Under the shadeof your treesthe houses of the presentand their tenant ghostsare listening.The arms of the white curtainsare beckoning, calling the weedin my chest to springto the graves of the past.


These are in the hutserected by bamboosduring the time of sunsetstightened by chantschiming of the six o' clock bell,prayer. Venomous serpent, ghastlywith the caress of the stars,what you have swallowedcannot be spat outwhat you want to say is long,restrained at the tipof your twisted tonguefor your sins, this is a penaltyto you by the world. Speak nowI command you.No need to turn your facefor I have already caughtits crumpling.Out of your restless body,step out.Of the clothes you have wornwear your origin.Come to my sidefor I know nothing.Tell me of the pastwhen you are proneto balls of fireand headless priests. Jaime Jesus Borlagdan


Mantang Nagmamaan... / While Looking... Garo sa diklomna ipinandong kan langitmay sadit na luho Hale digdisarong pisi ki sildangan tisuhon na buminulos Luhang garo hipidon na busaypaluwas sa matakan dagom Kun sususugon sa babasu kawatan an hinugpaan kainisa daga Arog baga kan plorerang tubongan pagtiripon kan burak buda tunokpinumpon man digdi sa kawatanan gabos na ogmang binuhian tasa kinaban Garo baga nganing daing sayangsa mga itinapok ta sinda an puminorottinambak digdi kan kamot na masuripot Hilinga ta su mga sapi-sapi tangsinambot kan gilyet na parosdigdi palan ruminalagpak Nangangandam kan satong pangangaipongbumalik dangan maghanapsa lubungan kan satong kaluyahan Garo su aldaw na ito uminabot na sakomantang naghahalat sa saro sa mga bangkomasundo sa urulian kan alas-singkosa lumang eskuwelahan ako napasyarsa gilid kan kawatan nagtukaw-tukaw


Sinda yaon sa tahawmatarom pa sa kudal ki tunokan bilog na pagkaraputankan manipis na mga kamot Sa pauro-otro nindang pagtalibongpigkukurit ninda sa dagaan itsura kan saindang kinaban:Matalimon, dai namamaanan Sa ngarakngak nindanghiling an tila-tilanagsisirip an satuyang kaitona kinaon na kan sadit nindang lawas. Kaya niyani bintanaan mga nakangangang ngimotkan hamot kan hilaw na awot. Kun gabos sana kuta kitatatao magmaanmakukua ta an nawara Kun gabos kuta kitayaon digdi nakahilingsa paghulpotkan tursido ki ilawhali sa luhosa diklom na pandongmataram su iba “luho na an langit”“dai, ” masiring an iba, “may pag-asa.” Hulyo 30,2004. T.S.C.E.S. English: As if in the gloomworn by the skythere is a small hole From this


a thread of lightflows falterlessly A tear like creaseless springout of the eyeof a needle If we'd trace it belowthe playground is whereit landed Just like a vase which graspsthe gathering of flowers and thornsalso gathered here in the playgroundare all the joy we've unleashedto the world It's like so that nothing would be wastedthey've picked up what we have thrownpiled here by a wise hand Look, our kitescaught by the blade windall crashed here They are anxious for our needto return and look forthe graves of our frailty As if that day has already come to mewhile waiting on one of the benchesto fetch the dismissal of 5 o' clockto the old school I've strayedat the edge of the playground I've sat They are there at the center,sharper than a fence of thornsis the circle of their thinchain of hands In their repeated windingon the earth they are drawing


the shape of their world:Round, unseen In their tonsil-showinggaping laughterour past is peekingswallowed by their small bodies That's why, windowsare the gaping mouthsof the grass' unripe scent If only all of usknows how to seewe will find what was lost If only all of usare looking at thisexpulsionof a thread of lightfrom a holein the dark coversome will say 'the sky is breeched''no' some will say 'there's hope.' Jaime Jesus Borlagdan


Natunawan Duluhan na kahadeansa tunaw na timakansuanoy na osiponan harigeng hurandiganhala-hala kan mga akian kudal na sarigsa hangos na hiraromsu mapa ikinurit.Hangaw an linderosturo an muhonbuda su mamundahaloy nang nakalubong.An poder kan trononakatukaw sa dampogpigmangno kan moogna butang bulakog. Yaon an digdi ngoniannakatugdok, nakaulakitsa itsura na tarospulinas asin padangadang.Arog kan paroslipod na sapuyong sa kadahunan.Siyudad na nalunodsa pagtaob kan kalingawan. Lunad sa abagakan daing herak na Habagatnagdudumig an matangnakamaan sa tangod tasu gadan na datonakapatos pa sa bodyokataning su mga oriponna sa pasaka pinaghugot. Agosto 10,gahan. English:


Village kingdomon vanished landancient talesits lean-on pillarsfollies of childrenits support wallsin deep breathsits maps were drawn.Hearsays are its bordersa pointed finger its monsand the one with this knowledgeis in the grave long gone.The domain of the thronesits at the cloudstended by the watchtowerwide-eyed blind. It's here nowerected, co-existingin the from transparentfaded and arriving.Like the breezeinvisible slap to the foliage.A city drownedby the high tides of forgetting. Riding the shouldersof the merciless south windteary eyedlooking down to usthe dead datu, kingstill wrapped in a bodyo, funeral shroudbeside him are the slaveswhich in the pasaka, ritualwere self-slayed. Jaime Jesus Borlagdan


Negros-Full Moon How long have I waned?And took the fate of oceansupon my hand.I make tides faithfulto the shore, yet I amwithout love, and one faithguides my circles, that perhapsa new night pure enough to unfurlthe virgin wraps of night-bloomstilled by the violet fingersof answerless waiting will wakeyou up despite the tender clothclinging upon your breasts, the soft airbreathed by a garden nearby thru youropen window will choke your pink dreamsof castles hazy at the tip of cliffs,your prince upon a silver horse gallopingupon the bog, and bring your eyes to mewhite with craving, hanged on a fragile noose. Jaime Jesus Borlagdan


Pagbasol / Remorse Sa impyernokun talagang may impyernoigwang padusang pig-aapodna daing kasagkudanna pagkalamos.Ini igibo sa mga may kagibokan sadiring pagka-utsan.Para saindang dai nang gananghumangos, mahiwason an dagatdigdi sa impyerno.An totoo kaan gabos ini dagat.Kayang ihusto dawa pira pang kinaban.Garo kahewasan. An totoo kaanlalawgon ini kan kahewasansa sarong salming.Duman imbes bitoon,mga nagrolobong kalagan nagpaparataw-pataw.Mga planetang gadan.Padagos na pigpapano an daghan,kun igwa pa sindang daghan,ki tubig. Dawa daing kasagkudan an pagbilang,an mga kalag igwang pighahalat:an punto kan pagkapano.Na kun pwede dai na ninda abuton,na sa boot nindamas marhay na an lunudondawa hanggan nuarin,dai sana mapano.Hilinga, ta baka nasasala sana ako,bakong kusang paghagad ini ki padusakan pigpapadusahan?Arog kaini sa impyernopigtuturo an pagkamoot. Ta kaipuhan palupuson girarayan mga napanong kalag


pag an pakabutog kainikadakula na kan kinaban.Ini su pigdudulagan.Ta sa oras na ini kaipuhannindang marumdumanan kamawotan na mabuhay.Ta an masunod na kagadanansarong pagsungo-sungodai na ninda kaipuhan habasonkundi kusang itatao:sarong hangos.Saro sana. Bakong tubigkundi parosnamit kan dating kinuspangkinaban. Bakong garo man sana disyertoan sarong tagdong tubig?Sa disyerto, an sarong tagdong tubigbakong sarong maitom na paulok?Paghinangos ninda inibagong malalamos sana sindaki pagmawot na patawadon?Kuguson giraray an hinabuan.Ata an mismong dagat na inibakong ginibo man sanakan sadiri nindang luha?Pag nasapar na nindakun ano su nawara,pagnaukdan na nindaan tataramon na “kanugon”,saka sinda ilulugom giraraysa midbidon na nindang tubigbuda diklom. English: In hellif there really is hellthere is a punishment calledstate of bottomless drowning.This is done to those who did


their own undoing.For them who are fed upwith breathing, the sea is vasthere in hell.In fact it is all sea.Enough to fit no matter how many worlds.Like space. In factthis is the reflection of spacein a mirror.There, instead of stars,bloated soulsare drifting.Dead planets.Their lungs, if they still have lungs, are filled constantlywith water. Even though the counting is endless,the souls here got something to wait for:the point of fullness.Which if only they wouldn't reach it,that deep inside themto drown forever is betterthan be full.Look, for I may just be mistakenisn't this a whole-hearted request for punishmentby the punished?This is how in helllove is taught. For the swollen soulsmust again be deflatedif they have inflatedas big as the world.This is what they are avoiding.For at this pointthey need to rememberthe desire to live.For the next deathwill be a tauntthey need not steal itit will be given freely:one gasp.


Only one. Not waterbut airtaste of the old worldthey have spat. Isn't a dropp of wateralmost like a desert?In the desert, isn't a dropp of watera merciless joke?If they would breathe thiswouldn't they just drownwith the desire to be forgiven?To embrace again what was abandoned.Even this very sea,isn't it made by their very tears?Until they have sufferedwhat was lost,until they have learnedthe words 'regret for the wasted'only will they be submerged againto the water and darknessthey well know. Jaime Jesus Borlagdan


Pagdai Ka / In Your Absence Pagdai ka daing bunga an parosna puwedeng rabnuton, pagdai kanagkakamang an panahonsa lugad kan mga dahon, pagdai ka daing duga an bungang inian bangang bulan ngiritna daing ugma sa ibabaw kan itom. English:In your absence In your absence the wind is fruitlessI have nothing to reap, in your absencethe season crawlson the wound of the leaves, in your absence this fruit is saplessthe half moon is a smilewithout joy on the surface of black. Tagalog:Pagwala ka Pagwala ka walang bunga ang hanginna maaaring dukutin, pagwala kagumagapang ang panahonsa sugat ng mga dahon, pagwala ka walang katas ang bungang itoang hating buwan ngitingwalang saya sa ibabaw ng itim. Jaime Jesus Borlagdan


Pagsiblag / Parting Nakatalikod na siya kaito (su babayi) . Nakahiling na sa dalan pasiring sa siyasana an nakakaaram. Buda duman sa saiyang padumanan, tibaad maynaghahalat, ta ininutan na siya kan saiyang kaogmahan na makaabot duman. Su saiyang kahampang (su lalaki) nakahiling sana sa talikod niya. An kawaran kipakiaram pinamati saiya kan kinaban. Naghahanap kuta siyang tabang- mas dulopa kaiyan, naghahanap siyang katanosan. Pero dawa ngani kamot niya dai siyatinubod na dawa hapruson an likod na nagpupuon nang rumayo. Sa likod kan kampanaryo, pigtatamong kan maluway na aldaw an itom kan mgakahoy. An mga traysikol, sa gabat, nagsasagyad an lubutan sa daga,nagkakamang na pauli. Gabos naghahali, sagkod an matada sana saiya, siya. 'Kun pwede niya sana kutang suluton an gayon kan saiyang kalag-imbes ininglawas na kinaaatian mo-tibaad mamumutan mo man siya.' Pero nagtalikod naman su nabayaan. Inda ngani kun su ngimot niya an nagtaramta ini pirit niyang pigtatahuban, sa pagpuon kan takig na nagyuyugyog sasaiyang daghan. Sa totoo, dai ako mangalas na an mga taramon na ini, sinawodmismo kan kamunduan na iyo man an suminugo sa mga alang na dahon natambunan an mga dalan kan daing herak. English: She was already turned away, looking at the path leading to she alone knowswhere. And there perhaps someone is waiting, for her joy was already there evenbefore she was. The man just looked at her turned back. The absence of feeling, of concern wasinflicted to him by the world. He was seeking aid-more than that, he was seekingrighteousness. But even his hands disobeyed him, to at least touch the turnedback, moving away. Behind the belfry, the slow day blankets itself with the darkness of the trees. Thetricycles, in heaviness, scratch their ends to the ground, crawling home.Everything is leaving, until all that remains in him is himself. 'If only he could wear the beauty of his soul-instead of this flesh which sickensyou -perhaps you would learn to love him too.'


But the one who was left also turned away. It's not even sure if these wordscame from his mouth, which he tried to cover, as shivers begin wracking hischest. In truth, I will not be surprised if these words were spoken by Sadnessitself, which was also the one who commanded the dry leaves to veil the path ofthe wicked. Tagalog: Nakatalikod na siya nuon (ang babae) . Nakatingin na sa landas patungo sa siyalang ang nakakaalam. At duon sa kanyang patutunguhan, marahil ay maynaghihintay, dahil naunahan na siya ng kanyang galak na makarating duon. Ang kanyang kaharap (ang lalake) nakatingin sa talikod niya. Ang kawalan ngpaki-alam pinaranas sa kanya ng mundo. Humahagilap sana siya ng tulong-maspa diyan, naghahanap siya ng katarungan. Ngunit kahit nga kamay niya di siyasinunod na kahit yapusin ang likod na nagsisimula nang lumayo. Sa likod ng kampanaryo, kinukumot ng mabagal na araw ang itim ng mga kahoy.Ang mga padyak, sa bigat, sumasadsad ang puwitan sa lupa, gumagapangpauwi. Lahat lumilisan, hanggang ang matira lang sa kanya, siya. 'Kung maaari niya lang sanang isuot ang kagandahan ng kanyang kaluluwa-sahalip itong katawan na kinadidirian mo-marahil mamahalin mo rin siya.' Ngunit tumalikod na rin yung naiwan. Hindi ko alam kung yung bibig niya angnag-usal, dahil pilit niya itong binubusalan, sa pagsimula ng nginig nayumuyugyog sa kanyang dibdib. Sa totoo, hindi ako magtataka na ang mgasalitang ito'y binigkas mismo ng kalungkutan na siya ring nag-utos sa mgatuyong dahon na ibaon ang mga daan ng di nahabag. Jaime Jesus Borlagdan


Para Sa Mga Nawarang Obra / To The Lost Works Arog kan aking nagadan an nawarang obra. Dai pa nahiling kan kinaban; ankinaban kan nawarang obra dai pa nahiling. Nadiskwido sa salang pagsaray o tuyong bigla na sanang napara, dai nakaipuhan osipon kun pano hinanap, pano hinidaw. Pasain na an mga ini? Dawa an matris-isip na nagmukna, nagbados, budanaghulpot, naghaman, dai na masusog dawa sa pagmati buda pagrumdom. An mga taramon na tinukdol sa kawaran nai-uli sa kawaran. Bakong garomagayon na okasyon? Iyo sana an, dai ta na masasapar gilayon an ogmapagkairiba ini. An pigtatao kaini satuyang kamugtakan, pagdai na sinda garonawawara naman. Apirmasyon kan pagigi tang yaon—pagnapara na, garo daiman kita nagin. May nagbabasa daw kan nawawarang obra sa balyo kan nasasapar nareyalidad? Ano an mataram na hale sa kamot ko an obrang wara na? Ano anmataram na igwa akong kamot na nagtubong ki panurat para hamanon su obra?Pano matutukar an ideya na an obra yaon na pataw-pataw sa kawaran? An obrang nahaman, nawara, yaon na sa lugar kun sain an gabos na daina nakua yaon. An sarayan kan mga bagay na nawara. Arog kan isog o kaakian.Wara nang mataram na nagin satuya an mga ini. Dawa pagrumdom. Arog kanbuhay tang diit-diit naaatas. Sagkod sa dai na marumduman kun an lawas tangini yaon talaga digdi. * * *English: The lost work is a child that has died. He hasn't seen the world; no one hasseen the world of the lost work. Either caught in a mishap of improper keeping or by intention, it vanished inan instant, it is needless to mention how it was sought, how it was missed. Where are they headed? Even the mind-womb which created it, conceived it,birthed it, and moulded it, cannot track it even in feeling and in memory. The words sown from nothingness were returned to nothingness. Isn't this acause for celebration? However, we will never again be able to relish the bliss ofbeing with it. The solace it gives us, goes away too when they are gone. With thedisappearance of the affirmation of our being here, it feels we have never been. Is there someone reading the lost work in the other side of our experiencedreality? What will declare that the lost was our handiwork? What will say that Ihave held a pen and wrote the piece? How can we discuss the idea that the worknow floats in the void? The work that was made and lost is now in where all that was never found


are. The keeper of all that was lost. Like courage or youth. Nothing can tell thatthese were once ours. Not even remembrance. Like our life which slowly wastesaway. Until we can never remember if even our body was really here Jaime Jesus Borlagdan


Pista Sa Gadan, Kinaagahan / All Souls Day, TheMorning After Dai mo huhunaon na Nobyembre ining aga. Agang kinuramos kan paros an tunog. Arog sa kinaagahan kan katapusan kan kinabanan mga kalag na naguong sa satong panganorongagaboton kan kalamias kan kahewasan. Mahahanggianan an tikab sa pagsakat kan gabat. Ta napasain su girabo kan uranhadok kan ngabil kan mga naghahayang gadan?Napasala garong panahon, ta mga rignos nakatugdonsa koryenteng inalambre, nagtatawong alingahot kan Marsosa mga bulan na benditado na kan lipot, sambay kan bagyo? Nagngangarakngak an kalag kota pigsusurod an sinaringsing sa palitada.Sa dagang ining parong ki gadan na kandilanagagango pa man an satuyang papa.Bako makangalasna ini aldaw ki Nobyembre? Maski sa mga atop nagsasangawan higos kan udto?Maski an agrutong kan de manohapiyap sa talmag kong boot.Dangoga, nagngangarakngakan kalag ko. Nakakasibog daw kita sa panahonkan satong pagkaakipagminaulok na arog kaini?Sa ikos na pigbugaw an rignossa gilid kan pigbaladsa trangka na buminurikat na daing takotsa sildang, sa huyop-huyop na kinutaw


sa tubig kan asul na langit.Sa pagbuklos ta padulagbakong ini an kasagkodankan satuyang pagdalagan?Kapkapa sa tikab ko,nagngangarakngak an kalag ko. Nobyembre 2 gahan English: You wouldn't suppose this is a November morning. A morning the wind washed itself with dew. Like the morning after the world has ended,the souls stuck in our atmospherewill be plucked by the arms of the universe. The chest will be relieved by the ascension of the weight. For where did the terror of the rain gokiss of the lips of the trembling dead?Perhaps a mistaken weather, for sparrows are perchingon electric wires. Haunting heat of Marchin the months already anointed by the chill, mistress of storms? My soul is laughingfor the second sprouting of palay is combed in the pavement.In this soil with a dead candle scentwe are still able to dry our food.It's not surprisingthis is a day in November? Even in the roofs reekthe activity of noon.Even the groan of the tricycleis caress to my soaked spirit.Listen, my soul is laughing. Are we able to withdraw to the timeof our childhood


whenever we chuckle like this?To the cat that wards off the birdsat the edge of the drying grainsto the gate which opened up without fearto the ray, to the breeze concoctedin the water of the blue heavens.In our fleeing retreatisn't this the dead endto our running away?Feel my chest,my soul is laughing. Jaime Jesus Borlagdan


Sa Puro Kan Ulok / At The Tip Of A Smile Hagad kan kinabansa ngaran kan pakisarona ako makitinuhansa kagabsan. Sa pagsirang, pagsulnop kan aldawsa pagtindog, pagrumpag kan antenang halangkawsa nasabat, nasulbod na kamidbidsa waltak na dahonnalihisan, nasilaod kan sigidminatino ako, minangirit. Sa puro ugaring kan ulokmay duon na minasabloyarog kan sarong magabaton na kahaputanpaokod kan sarong ribong taonluya na dai uminagi sa kapagalanhiling sa sarong kahewasan,sa sarong gadan na linyaminasulit an kinidit na ngimot buda pangasa pag-atubang sa purokaining panggang na kaawagansa irarom ko an buotgugom na minagabotki matunukon na awot. Marso 31,2005 Pawa English: The world asksin the name of harmonythat I greet and make peacewith the many. To the rising, and setting of the sunto the raising, and tearing down of a towering antenna,to the familiar face, encountered, and missedto the fallen leaf


passed over, and caught by the hard broomI greet, and smile. Yet at the tip of the smilethere is a weight that hangslike a heavy questionriddle of one puzzled ageweakness which skipped exhaustiona look at a vastness,to one dead linethe smile strained by the mouth and jaw retractsin facing the endof this barren clearingbeneath me, feelingpulls out, clenchinga thorny weed. Jaime Jesus Borlagdan


Sain Hali An Diklom Kan Kahewasan? / Whence ComeThe Plain’s Darkling Cover? Sain hali an diklom kan kahewasan?Sa kawaran ki liwanag buda lawasAn buta kong kalag nakamaan duman. Liwanag sa diklom, ihurma an bulanMalipot na rarom an púro iluwasDigdi hali an diklom kan kahewasan? Sa isla kan itom mong alinawnawanMamundo sa tahaw kan dagat na gatasAn paha kong kalag minahigop duman. Sa dungo mong duwang kuwebang istaranKan ermitanyong parong, hangos na halasMinakamang an diklom kan kahewasan. An ngirit kan yukyok mo an inaruganKan palatawan kaining planetang layasAn gadan kong kalag minaladop duman. Digdi sa hapot ika an kasimbaganSa simbag iyo man an walat na ngalasSimo hali an diklom kan kahewasanIlabto ko an bilog kong kalag duman. (Abril 2,2007, Karanggahan) Translation: Whence come the plain’s darkling cover?From the absence of flesh and light,My blindness opens and sees everything there. Light, reveal the moon-trails of water,Out of the depths pour the chill, mightDarkness be born there, the plain to cover?


From the black isle of your eyes peerPain in an ocean of milk, sap of white,My parched, starving soul drinks there. In your thin, dainty nostrils whereLive the hermit smell, slink the slightSnake of breath into the plain’s darkling cover. In the soft beneath your arm gatherStars and planets in this fugitive night,My lifeless soul sings in the dark water. To this riddle you are the answer,Leaving wonder in instant flight;From you comes the plain’s darkling cover,My soul, dark and entire, plunges there. (Translation: Marne L. Kilates) Jaime Jesus Borlagdan


Sarong Mainit Na Aldaw / A Hot Day Dakol an naghahagad kan aldawna magin arog kaini.Ini an minapabulawan sa mga tinamposa pigbabalad na ani, an minaparambongkan mga halayhayan sa mga dinurumogsa paglaba, an minapadagos sa pagbuhoski tulang sa mga paa kan mansiyonna pigtatapos, an minasibot sa sadiyotna bagting kan pigtitindang palipot. Gari ka naghihilingsa bintanang malinawon an salming.Gari kita pigpapahiling: Su liwanag arog kan initna nagmukna sa kinaban.Hali digdi minahugpa an linawsa mga itsura. Rirawon.Garo ritratong ikinurit ki tarom. Namamate ko su nahiling ko: Pigsasapna kita—piggigibo giraray. Hali satuya minaluwasan hilaw na lawas—na nagkurubong sa diklomsa itsura kan tubigna natipon sa malipot na panahon.Siring man sa irarom kan arik-arikmuyang pumaknit kan gayonhali sa mga dai narereparodangan magturon-turonsa dagang mainiton—sarong sayawki pagpamidbid: Hilinga, huni kami Hilinga, ta parakua man an init na ini.An ragit arog an dagitkan pagbawi. Ano an pigbabawi?Kalumuyan. Pigbabalik an tagas


sa kinaban nganing mabuhangmawaran ki kupotarog kan minapasang marang daga.Hali digdi makaluwas daw an pisogkan kapinunan? Pigbabalo kita kun sagkod sainan kayang itao. An gibuhon giraray kitabakong arog kaini kundi daing natok na mga gapo—magin kaarog kan pigtatangad na mga lawasna daing digta—purong enerhiya! —mga lansang buda yelong pataw-patawsa kahewasan. *Sa kahaluyanarog kan bagang kinaon kan sadiring isogsuminibog na su initpasiring sa saiyang kapinunan na rarom—sa lugar na pigtalikudan kan mga bulod—sa diklom— o kita an nagrayo sa pagkadaog. Makakarayo daw kita?Ta dai pa tapos—ta daing kasagkodan—an talimonta sa kalayo, sa init na garo dagit, na garo pagkamuot,na minagibo satuya,na minaraot satuya. English: Many are prayingfor a day to be like this.This turns the roadsgolden with the drying harvest,the clothes line abundant with the washed dripping wet,this resumes the laying downof bones to the legs of the unfinished mansion,excites the tiny ringing of the peddled chill. It's as if you're lookingthrough a clear glass-window.It's like we are being made to look:


The brightness is like the heatwhich created the world.From this, clarity descendsupon the forms: sharply.Like a picture drawn by a blade. I am feeling what I am seeing: We are being cooked—recreated. From us steps outthe unripe body—hiding in the darkin the form of wateraccumulated during cold days.Likewise under the intense heatBeauty yearns to rip awayfrom the un-noticedand hop around—a danceof introduction: Look, here we are See, for this heat's also a taker.The severity is like the rageof redemption. What is being reclaimed?Softness. Hardness is being restoredto divide the worldto lose its bondlike smashing dry soil.From this, will the seed of originstep out? We are being tested up to wherewe can give. To make us againnot like this but sapless stones—to be like those stainless bodieswe look at skyward—pure energy! —steel and ice which floatin space.*Eventuallylike the ember devoured by its ferocitythe light-heat recededto the depth where it began—


in the place where mountains have turned their backs—to the dark— or was it us who retreated in defeat. How farcan we run?For it isn't over—for it is without end—our orbitaround the fire, around the heat which is like anger, which is like lovewhich creates uswhich destroys us. Jaime Jesus Borlagdan


Surprise Quiz / Kan naitao na su kahaputanluway-luway na luminuwassu ribok sa kwarto. Garo pagpundokan ngarakngakanpag may biglang nagadansa pilikulang paulok. Kun ano man na aking ogmaan naghuhurunlakan sa aki nindang isipkuminilpis pagtuktok kan kahaputansa saindang mga pintuan. Su irinuman pakatapos kan klaseisinuksok muna sa irarom kan ulnan,su tuparan sa sinehan kan piday pag-urulianisinalya muna paluwas sa bintana,hinipid su samok kan isip na gubotta su kahaputan hipidon an sulot,nagaarik-arik an silyab kan sapatos,malipot arog kan magurang na dai makasabot. Sa hampang kan kahaputanginubot ninda su buhok na haluyonpinakaray kan sukray (para sa piday) ,sinanlian su malinawon na isog kan saidang kaakianki murusot na nagwagas ki mga talaw na linya.Sa hampang kan kahaputantuminalikod sinda pasiringsa kwartong saindang pigdudulagan. Sa kawartong ini nawalat sa mga tukawansu mga lawas na karamaskamas.Kamrag pasakat kan nabulotsa hararom na kalot. Karagnaskan papel na ginumos. Makagiraboan kadaehan na ribok.Gari arog pag banggi


pag an mga suriyawnakalaom sa laog.Pag an isipnakikigumulansa paros. Sa kawaranki laog. Garomay nagibo akongsala.Garomay tursidongnagdara ki gabatdawa siyertoan pagpatod. Kuminagrit su bel.Saro-saro sindang nagtirindugan.May pigtitipon sindang parosgibo kan haralawig na hinangos,kan pigtitipon ninda sa hampang kosu mga papel na daing simbag,dai sinimbagan. Garo mga panyonggamit buda habo nang gagamiton. Insigidapagluwas, pigkalagkalag ninda su saindang tinarapokkan nakua, pinalaog ninda sa saindang mga payo,na pano ki paghidaw arog sa nasuway na pagkamoot,ining mga bagay na muya buda kaya sana nindang isipon. * An natada sa kwarto, ako.Nakahiling na garo igwang lawasan sakuyang kahaputanbuda an saiyang kasimbaganna anod-anod na garo dampogsa ibabaw kan binarayaan na tukawan,kargado ki enerhiya buda lipot, na pagminasalpukan,minagibong daludog na ako sanaan nakakadangog.


English: After the question was giventhe ruckus tiptoed out of the classroom. Like the haltingof laughterduring a sudden deathin a funny film. Whatever juvenile joyromps around their juvenile mindsthinned out at the rapping of the questionon their doors. The drinking spree after classis slipped under the pillowthe rendezvous with the lover at the after class cinemais thrown outside the window,they have straightened out the mess in their tangled mindsfor the question's clothes are creaselessintense is the shine of its shoescold like a parent who wouldn't understand. In the face of the questionthey ruined their haircombed for hours (for the lover)the naked boldness of their youthis switched with a frown spreading cowardly lines.In the face of the questionthey turned their back to a roomthey are running away from. In this room left on the chairsare the squirming bodies.Upward clawing of one which fellto a deep pit. Racketof a crumpled paper. The absence of soundis hair-raising.Like during at nightwhen the screams


are muffled within.When the mindwrestleswith air.With emptiness. It's as ifI have madea mistake.It's as ifa threadcarried a weighteven if snappingis certain. The bell shrieked.One by one they stood up.They created a breezemade by their exhalationswhile they gather in front of mepapers without answers,unanswered. Like usedand now unwanted handkerchiefs. Instantlywhen they were outside, they searched for what they had thrownfinding them, they ushered these back to their headsfilled with longing as a separated belovedthese things they want to think of and are only capableof thinking of.*What's left in the room is me.Staring at, as if with bodies,my questionand its answerfloating like a cloudabove the abandoned chairs,charged with energy and coldness,that whenever they collidethey create a thunder which only me alonecan hear.


Jaime Jesus Borlagdan


That She May Find Me Among These Distances The summer beneath her skinwakes sleeping gardens beneath mine.Never will I be calm or waters be without ripples. In grief are many poems about sunsetsbut on her cheeks alone bleeding reds twice.How will I be calm or have waters without ripples? Notice my hands, her texturesare alive in all my fingers.Never will aging sing in my tree houses! Never will I be calm or waters be without ripplesor nights without pillows heavy with songsof her name, her skin, and the summer beneath. How can I remember her, when I have not forgotten.I am empty with her, but without herthe world is filled with Chopin and drowned men. The waters in our eyes― does it just remind youhow the sea, to take the bruised body back yearns? I am empty with her, but without herI trace the bed at night for depths pressed by absentstars. And what relief is longing, when it reminds meshe is not here, but here is not with herand where she is, is not with me, is lostin the burden of arriving. For the world is heavywith restraint and Imagination is a mascular horse. In the unborn days we are times of rapid waters.I am empty with her, but without herI repeat her voice until the flute of my throatis breaking, is telling of wide fields, of enormous skies. The summer beneath her skin


awaken sleeping gardens beneath minenever will I be calm or waters be without ripples. Jaime Jesus Borlagdan


To Jewel Birth-Giver To Haraya Literally a globe in your bellyI ‘ve never seen any woman so fullHow many continents swallowedwith your little mouth? How manypeople? How much courage to swallowit all? All the eyes all the armsall the testicles combined into onecurling. How could I ever manage not to burstfrom the dreadful trees into the windwith the engine of a stork when the worldcrawls out into a child. Jaime Jesus Borlagdan


Jaime Jesus Borlagdan - poems - PoemHunter.com

Documents

Transcript of Jaime Jesus Borlagdan - poems - PoemHunter.com