Tag Archives: poem

Ibig Kong Ika’y Payapa (Salin ng Me Gustas Cuando Callas / I Like For You To Be Still ni Pablo Neruda)

Ibig kong ika’y payapa, na parang halos isang puwang,
At nauulinigan mo lang ako sa kalayuan at hindi ka makalabit ng aking tinig,
At tila ang iyong mga mata’y pumailanlang,
At pawang sinelyahan ng halik ang iyong mga labi.

Kung paanong ang lahat ng bagay ay puspos ng aking diwa
Umuusbong ka mula sa lahat ng ito, puspos ng diwa ko.
Panaginip na paru-paro, kagayak ka ng aking kaluluwa
At kahawig ng salitang panglaw.

Ibig kong ika’y walang imik, na para bang kay layo mo,
Parang nananaghoy, mariposang tumatangis.
At nabobosesan mo ako mula sa kalayuan at hindi ka naaabot ng aking tinig:
Papasukin mo ako’t patuluyin sa iyong katahimikan

Dinggin mo ko sa iyong pagtahimik, mangusap tayong walang imik
Singlinaw ng sinag, singpayak ng singsing.
Tulad ka ng gabi, tahimik at binalangkas ng mga tala.
Ang hinahon mo’y buhat sa mga bituin, humahayo’t maaliwalas.

Ibig kong ika’y walang imik, na para bang hindi kita kapiling.
Malayo’t may kirot, na para bang ika’y namayapa.
Mangusap ka, kahit isang ngiti ay sasapat
At ako’y liligaya, maliligayahan sapagkat ito’y hindi ganap.

 

Isinalin ni Anj Heruela, Abril 2016

 

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Proximity

Across where you are, you’ll see,
We’ll meet where the sun meets the sea.

Like thread through a spread
of cloth coloured deep blue,
our fingers will weave through
the fabric of the Pacific, riding
the rise and fall and roll and
crash of waves that slip
into the palm of the shore.
Where changing sands mark the distance
between here and where you are–
nearness begins
where the ocean ends and expands.

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Never Out Of Time

It will come to a point when the seasons no longer define our timelines

We will gather in vases the bloom of fallen leaves in autumn

We will wade through the waves with snowflakes whispering in our ears

We will come to know moments instead of counting hours

And splitsecond kisses will sustain us year after year after year

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365 for 2013: (6) Mama


They speak of you as light,
Ray of cosmic brilliance
My own creator, goddess:
Mother.
Stardust scatters beautiful
on the universe of your face,
charting paths that glimmer of passageways
that curve to your cradling–
fingers, arms, shoulders, laps, belly—
and then the bank of the river of your hair
where, despite decades, I stumble to
find promised solace.
The strands stretch out and mark trails
Of moonpaths and sunbeams
On childhood scars you covered
With whispered comfort then band-aids.
My fingers follow these memories, finding myself
teetering on the center of your palm where I trace,
the pulse that beats
the blood of your love
In my veins.Mama

Because this poem deserved to be born today more than on Mother’s Day. What we celebrate today is your being born to this world. That’s the greatest thing that ever happened to me, otherwise nothing else would have happened 🙂 Happy birthday Mama.
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365 for 2012: (56) Rush Hour

There, where you should have been

standing five minutes ago, all at once occupied

and emptied by commuters chasing  buses  

that approach and leave. I place myself

precisely in-between distances

of come and go and constant transit.

 

Across the street, a waiting

shed: dilapidated. Waiting 

to be torn down. Will it be

replaced by another, a new

improved nook for passing time,

anticipating comings and goings.

 

Here, nobody wants to wait

too long. Nobody stays.

Yet hurrying away, they wonder

if somewhere, anywhere, somebody

takes note of their arrival. Hoping,

if they get there fast enough

they wouldn’t leave.

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