A repository of social and political commentaries, literary attempts in Ilokano and English. This includes notes on daily occurrences and quotations and sayings. "Abel" is the IIokano term for tapestry or woven cloth. The term tried to capture the contents of the blog.
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Come Again, Stranger, and Discover These Isles*
for Mehru Jaffer
massage parlours and the discos
at mabini and the pimps at las palmas
did not speak of my country
neither did the taxi driver
with the fast meter; they, too, populate
all babylons of the world.
the beaches and mountains up north waited
for your white feet and your dark eyes
and the brown maidens of pagudpud
prepared for you a drink of coco milk.
you would have savoured babuyan's divine winds
seen fishwives pulling in the early morning
catch and urchins frolicking in the sands.
you would have breathed the gentle air
of green fields, tasted the sweetest of mangoes
and a tumult could have overwhelmed you
before the red sun sinking beyond
the hundred isles.
you would have slept soundly
inside a hut by the sounding sea.
how brief your stay, stranger,
your nikon could have caught the splendor
of mayon and the bay and yes, yes, shooting the rapids
at pagsanjan could have thrilled you no end.
a southern cruise could have taken you
to many edens and zamboanga could have welcomed you
with a riot of native flowers.
i will not speak of coves and islets
and wild orchids and monkeys without tails
and rice terraces and stalks of golden grains kissing the sky
and birds mating in the heavens
and village swains strumming guitars
down a path lined with gumamelas
nor of young sagalas, handsome escorts
in a may procession of images.
i will not speak of gay fiests and the ati-atihan
of antique and carabao races, lechon parades.
i will not speak of a thousand wonders
but, come again, stranger, come again and discover
these isles of songs and poems.
Sermon On The River
Half-sunked in the sand, the driftwod
Preaches to frogs hugging moss-covered stones.
I remember Sunday Catholics
In the old hometown church:
They are no more than hagglers
In the marketplace while God's lieutenant
Is wasting away his voice over a defective
Microphone.
No, I'd rather seek the Eternal
In this dying river, in this massive bridge,
In those mist-shrouded mountains
Beyond.
*Naipablaak iti Asiaweek magazine, nairaman iti expanded edition ti "Umayka Manen, Ganggannaet/Come Again, Stranger", maysa nga antolohia dagiti dandaniaw iti Ilokano ken Ingles
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