:: Notes on Translation ::

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I approached a respected and well-liked poet,

the known editor and translator of many works.

I asked him if he could be my travel guide

as I explore my craft and test the waters.

The swift archer pulled and shot me off this quote

which struck and stirred  my conscious thought

(this can't be a couplet 'cause it sounds like a hymnal,

these are the lines I read from the frolicsome Chilean cardinal):

"No matter what you believe translation should be,

it can only be as good (or as bad) as the original."

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Kurit sa Dahon ni Minagayon (22 November 2010 - 5:00 am - Legazpi City) 
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curiosity killed the cat

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curiosity killed the cat
August 13, 2009 at 12:21 PM

Curiosity just killed the cat.
And it died another death today.
For it cannot bear to lose its pride,
It cut off its finger's piercing claws.
Grandmother’s yarn was full of promise and color
that the cat thought it could be weaved
into a warm and comfortable shawl.
foolish cat didn’t know,
it played with the yarn
and found itself tied and tangled,
only for grandmother to scold…
the yarn was for a cage decor
she has been wanting to make for the bird. 

Tagged: curiosity, cat, death, pride, promise, color, 

                comfortable, foolish, played, tangled, decor

Filed under: Of Which None Is To Be Said

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What is it then, really?

Our regional language, Bikol, is yet to be picked up by Google and efforts for that to be possible are only on their initial stages of conception...

Allow me to post for you a rough translation of this poem. Manoy Ben's or another friend's could be closer to the original, this nonetheless is how I understand the poem and is as far as the constraints of my vocabulary of our own language reaches, so here goes:

What is it then, really?

beggars that line the stretch of the road
right in front of the house across the neighborhood
from the time i still crept on all four, hands and feet on the floor
till all the Fridays that followed, i've never faltered to witness
by the slits of our windows and door

a prodding mystery that in my naivete clouded my mind, o why
these pitiful sights, too heavy of a burden for a child's mind
till on the daily business of life with the passing of time
all else have become ordinary, and they were seen as a gang reveling

whence, by merits of the academe, 'midst the witnessed struggles
what broke out into the stream and walked the streets is the activist
and yet the queue of beggars were never removed before our eyes
and the little stream became a river that to the next bend extended
of these paupers and homeless people who appear incessantly by the door
yet whose roots could not be traced, that we must find out and know

turning heads around from this sad movie that plays back everyday
all is blamed to the bespoken corruption that reels in the government
limestone in the crowd, or sand and sediment like them: behind the bars, go!
in the cold of the metal jail fences enclosing,
feeling so sorry for what has become of the self
is the hearkening of the light of understanding,
oh how severe were the ways followed, full of pits and falls!

Is this indeed the road that leads us to our sufferings' roots?
beggars, from dusted Bible times, well there have already been many
and so perhaps ne'er the government nor it's said democracy did breed?
perhaps the keys that would shift the gear are right
within the pockets of the mariners of our ship


those aristocrats, they sought the seat of power, and won by many votes
save a little fraction, they all used their political position to further their possessions
but whether inherited riches or stolen from the nation's people is not the issue
what sums all these talks is their ignorance of what obligation
has he who is entrusted with much things of value

it is in the book that we read 'responsibilities of wealth' but 'tis now
forgotten. even though investments are good, nothing can be traded
against providing service that is true to its word.
Profit with honor, SMC by Soriano
would anyone know if it's still being run
the same way by Cojuangco?

If then the roots of this pauperhood and destitution, could not be found
for the ones seated in power, are not all greedy over wealth,
but in any one who has much, whether stolen or inherited,
all holders of the stake are on the same plane standing:
in their hands fall the burden to alleviate all the suffering

But where could they all be, these who have more
than what they need, truly wealthy indeed and capable
To, with all of heart's sincerity, give voluntarily,
from all their gains. Dumped with so much graces
that the one ABOVE to them has only willfuly lent,
for just how many Manny Pacquiao's does our nation,
the Philippines, really need?

This is The Midnight Writer's rough translation of Manoy Ben Bobis' "Ano Baya Talaga?"

A little reflection from a parishioner after Manny Pacquiao won his 8th world boxing title.

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Ano Baya Talaga?

pila kaining makilimos poon kan ako magka-isip

sa luwas kan samong harong pirmi na nasisi'rip

nagkamang pa sana kaito, dai pa nakakalakaw

...daing patod kada byernes sakong pigtatanaw

lumbod na isip nagbungkaras ining hapot: t'daw

makahirakon hilingon, baang gabat para isipon

pero sa kahaluyan sa iba pang kasibutan nalingaw

ordinaryo na ni, nagin garo maogmang pagtiripon

naghaloy, nag-adal, bigla nag-aru'al, actibista daa

pero yaon giraray, dai nagli'pot, logod naglaba pa

ining makilimos byernes sa pwerta, yaon pa an pila

kun sain nagpoon su gamot magharanap daw kita

napamurongtan, nabirikan ining gobyernong korupto

taas kamo-o sabay kaining grupo, tundag: sa presinto!

pagpara-hara-hapihap laom kan rehas, sa sadiri nahirak

igwang nagliwanag, ining dalan palan grabe, lubak-lubak!

iyo baga ini totoong dalan sa gamot kaining kasakitan?

mga nagpalimos, panahon pa kan biblia, yaon, dakul man

tibaad bako man ining gobyerno demokrasya an hinalian?

tibaad an lyabe yaon sa mga tawong kani nagpadalagan

dating mayaman, nagkandidato, sa eleksyon nanggana

kadakul nakatuhkaw ginamit an pwesto yuminaman sana

maski arin man herederong yaman o hina'basan pareho

sumada: dai ninda aram obligasyon kan igwang sentimo

yaon sa libro nabasa 'responsibilities of wealth' kun sain

lingaw na. paminsan-minsan maginvest man daing kabain

magtao ki serbisyong puro. Profit with honor, SMC ni Soriano

ano daw kun ngonian kun eu pa man palakad ni Cojuangco.

kun siring gamot kaning pagpalimos, pag-tios, dai makukua

an nasa pwesto, bakong man gabos gahaman sa kwarta

kudi sa may kaya, hina'bun o pigamana, pareho man sinda

igwang responsibilidad na an pagtios tabangan mapara na

Hain daw sinda, ining iri-igwahon, mayamanon, may kaya

udok sa boot, boluntaryong ma-heras, saindang ganansya

tinambakan ki grasya na kan sa ITAAS sinda pinasubli sana

pirang pang Manny Pacquiao kaipuhan an Pinas magkaigwa?

--

Hali ki Ben Bobis (15 Nov 2010)

The Definition of a Poem

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What is a poem?

A poem is.

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Three Poems from Hardy Jacob

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We have favorite things, and we have favorite people.
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Hardy is one of my favorite people. A good friend of my mind from since college days.
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Work has taken his hands off from blogging now, but recently, I unearthed his scribbles from my old notes and shot him off a message to re-post everything.
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I am looking for more from him to post here soon. He does hope to write again.

 

Untitled

It is in my last breath that I say:

You are verve and delusion.

I can never see you.

But your spirit,

I feel.

For my heart knows how potent that beating tells me.

As fearful as the Death Angel’s curse.

More toxic than the slayer of Romeo.

Unadulterated as Cupid’s arrow.

I’m afraid.

So as my mind,

Laid to what life would bring us;

Or me.

But one thing’s for sure.

Now, I see the light of what I was born for.

Bestow heed;

Patience.

To love,

No one else,

But you.

A Consecrated

I was thinking.

Yet, I never sought to evoke.

He was there, almost there.

Walking towards my way,

But gone.

How can I be alive?

If my blood is sapped every time I think of your promise.

I hold on, more vague than any dreamy place;

More vague and unusual.

But I see that I am in that place.

So uncertain;

Lost;

Forever dying.

But even so I still breathe.

For one thing keeps me alive:

I’ll move on,

In faith,

In love,

For you. 

the first time i loved forever

“Somewhere I’ve never traveled…

Gladly beyond any experience,

Your eyes have their silence…

In your most frail gesture of things which enclose me,

Or which I cannot touch,

Because they are too near…”

The First time I loved forever…

Was when you whispered my name,

And I knew at once you loved me,

For the mere of who I am…

The first time I loved forever…

I cast all else aside,

And I bid my heart to follow,

Be there no more need to hide…

And if wishes and dreams are merely,

For children, and,

If love’s a tale for fools…

I’ll live a dream with you…

“Or,

If your wish be to close me,

I and my life will shut,

Very beautifully,

Suddenly,

As when the heart of this flower imagines the snow,

Carefully,

Everywhere descending…”

For all my life and forever,

There’s a truth I will always know,

When my world divides and shatters,

Your love is where I go..

“…I do not know what it is about you that closes and opens,

Only something in me understands:

The voice of your eyes, is deeper than all roses,

Nobody,

Not even the rain,

Has such small hands…”

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.

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And to end this post, his favorite line from Moulin Rouge:

"The greatest thing that you'll ever learn, is to love, and be loved in return." 

Trickster

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.
 you are a beautiful distraction
nonetheless, a pond of quicksand
in which i cannot play like a child
.

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Because It's Time To Hibernate

Before the waves of midday come splashing high,
to you my friends, i bid a momentary good bye,
as i lay myself to sleep and gain some bodily rest,
as my mind and soul is for God and His angels to keep,
until later before the darkness engulfs the noise of the world,
may I awake to the beauty in my midst in the fullness of God's graces,
that I be worthy to immerse in such magnificent splendors
with which in simplicity God's creations are cloaked with the earth's varied colors.

the current definition of a happy life.

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Mas maogma ako kan kasusaro kaysa kasuodma, 

pero mas maogma ako ngunyan kaysa kan kasusaro!

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(i was happier the other day than yesterday,

but i am happier today than the other day!)

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Friends of Mind

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butterfly or firefly, be free to roam around,
whether you come in the warmth and brightness of midday,
or in the cold stark darkness of midnight,
delight with me in sweetness and light.

i cultivate my garden, from grass to flowers, the trees that shade,
to those from which fruits, leaves, and barks fall down, which scents and flavors
may or may not all please your choosy buds, and decorate the lawn
with play things and marvels that by walking in the forests are found.

all beauty and meaning are however well-contained,
kept and saved in a special place for revelry and rest,
when all the day is spent to live, for the sake of friends
who are the most beautiful enemies of each one's poetic sense.
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--
As Emerson did write, friends indeed are the most beautiful enemies and our ideas often sound better when they tell them to us. The title of the post was inspired by the following lines from Toni Morrison:

"She is a friend of mind. She gather me, man. The pieces I am,
she gather them and give them back to me in all the right order.
It's good, you know, when you got a woman who is a friend of your mind."

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"The Protégé"

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When the student is ready, the teacher arrives.

I await for my teacher's arrival.

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—Margarita, "The Protégé". (2006)

let me alone by the beach tonight

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Let me alone by the beach tonight

as i watch every wave come to calm.

(a verse from a week and two years ago)

"The Creed"

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The work of someone's heart

should never be criticized

using somebody else's mind.

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–Enigma, "The Creed" (2003)

My Redemption

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My heart is out in the sun today!

My friends, do not fret for me or worry a bit...

it only shines more vibrantly red as i take each forward step;

it will not wilt for it rocks to the beat—

the classic sounds, my younger dreams—

and of those, if you have not yet known or heard,

perhaps, you can only guess why i wrote what you just read,

but let me tell you something about it anyway:

Tomorrow, I will redeem my pledge.
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An Mga Aninipot sa Busay

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One night in Busay

there was an outage of power supply

right in front of Bobot's house

lurked fireflies with flickering lights

Busay is a barangay just a few meters ahead of the entrance to Cagsaua Ruins,
the famous tourist spot at the foot of Mount Mayon
which features the remnant bell tower of the stone church
that got all buried during the 1814 eruption of the volcano.

This verse is a pensive recollection of a night when
friends of the pen leisurely gathered at Bobot's residence.

pagranga hale sa sarong tagahanga

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.
enot sa gabos ako sarong tagahanga
kun bako sa mga primerong nagraranga

tataramon na sadiri minsan nauk'dan
tibaad dae man nareparo an kahalagahan

minsan man ingles ang kinatu'dan
enot sa gabos ako sarong tagahanga

kan tataramon na iyo sana an makakahulit kan kultura
asin arte kan sa uro-aldaw na tigsik buda rawitdawit

na maski sa paglibot-libot o pakikipagdiskurso sa tawo
man o libro, dae nahagilapan kan mga terminong sakto.

kung kaya siring sa mga nagsusulong
ako man kaiba an iba pang bagong usbong

minaranga asin minaipus-ipos na sa guiraray man
logod manu'dan ang matamang pagtaram

kan sadiring tataramon sa dagang kinamundagan
guiraray ipagbalangibog, gamiton sa pagsurat, pagtaram
ngani mabuhay an lingguahe na sarong dakulang tanda
kan kulturang may tunay na progreso, padagos
pinag-oorgullo asin kinamomo'tan.

"pagkasulnop, minabanggui, rumdumon ang mga agi-agi".

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ini sarong katukduan

sa paagi ni mamu liloy:



mag muni-muni bago mag idlip...

inspeksyuna an saimung sadiri.

anu daw kun nagi kan marhay,

kun ika magturog na dae nang bungkaras,

ika daw sa kaogmahan na daeng

kasagkoran makakaheras?

Inscriptions at the Touchstone

    Click on the image to view the poem =D

Semi-colon

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a child, i used to be unafraid of telling just what i feel or think
but growing, i had too, my troubles to bear
my heart and my spirit was filled with many fears
but coming of age and discovering the light in the middle of groping,
once again i am finding the courage to be just who i am
without doubts, without hesitations, and trusting the voice within

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diit na birik na naman sana,
ang orasan mahudyat na
sa katahawan kan banggui
giraray mapupukaw
ang mga ideyang hinihidaw
sa otro magkakaharagilap
asin surunudan magkakapralastar
magiging mga tataramon na
kun bako liwanag sa diklom
magkukulay na mainit o malipot
sa itom na interface kan laptop
na kabanga naka open an Facebook
kabanga an naka bukas MS word
.

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just a little more forward movement
the minute-hand will strike twelve in a moment
and once again these ideas
which we all yearn to arrive and ensnare
will all be around and found present, capturing them,
by the letters they will be grouped in words
to ignite sparks in the middle of this darkness
or stain the glass screen with cool or warm hues and shades
that will be impressed hard and imprisoned on the black interface of the laptop
viewed in split windows of Facebook and Microsoft Word.