Si Malakas at si Maganda (the Strong and the Beautiful)

This is a very popular folk tale in the country and has varied details in different provinces all over the Philipines. Nevertheless, i would like to share the essence of the story to all those who want to read and go back to the stories of our yesteryears. 
This story was made by ancient filipinos in order to explain the mystery of the origin of humankind. According to this folk tale, there was nothing in the world but the sea, the sky, a piece of land, a bamboo tree, and a bird. The bird was on the bamboo and heard sounds in a couple of bamboo trees so it tried to break the bamboo trees through its beak. After sometime, the bamboo trees broke and a man and a woman came out. The man was called Malakas, and the woman, Maganda. They then started a family and produced children who filled the archipelago.
The name Malakas and Maganda also denote a deeper meaning and truth about Filipino culture. Filipinos consider women to be maganda or beautiful,sweet, and soft; while men as malakas or strong and sturdy human being to whom the family can depend on at all times especially in times of trouble and disasters in life...


http://www.shvoong.com/books/mythology-ancient-literature/1777503-si-malakas-si-maganda-strong/

Though You Tell Me Not

I know you love me, though you tell me not, I know you hold me captive for always In the strong nets of your life, Celestial thurible of a perennial dream.

Though you tell me not that without me You cannot live, My desire tells me ‘tis all true: That many sad flowers girdle your forehead If when depressed, you think of an Awakening.

What shall I tell you? I look at you… and I am silent. Well do you comprehend now my deep Silence. The star turned flower in the distant sky Contemplates its shadow on the waters Without fear.

Let my sorrow on your breast repose, Like a weary traveling dove. Beneath the tepid shade of the tranquil Orchard Let us the kind caress of peace enjoy.

May repose be a song, a serenade, While in the hour serene we baste The ripened dreams of past epochs That with effluvium fill our old souls.

Though you tell me not you think of me, That all of me in your heart you keep, Return to remembrance shall I and finding You, Though you tell me not I shall know that It is love!

http://www.angelfire.com/realm3/rmcsolidarity/link5.html#tell

Mi ultimo adios ( my last farewell)

¡Adiós, Patria adorada, región del sol querida,
Perla del mar de oriente, nuestro perdido Edén!
A darte voy alegre la triste mustia vida,
Y fuera más brillante, más fresca, más florida,
También por ti la diera, la diera por tu bien.
En campos de batalla, luchando con delirio,
Otros te dan sus vidas sin dudas, sin pesar;
El sitio nada importa, ciprés, laurel o lirio,
Cadalso o campo abierto, combate o cruel martirio,
Lo mismo es si lo piden la patria y el hogar.
Yo muero cuando veo que el cielo se colora
Y al fin anuncia el día tras lóbrego capuz;
si grana necesitas para teñir tu aurora,
Vierte la sangre mía, derrámala en buen hora
Y dórela un reflejo de su naciente luz. 
Mis sueños cuando apenas muchacho adolescente,
Mis sueños cuando joven ya lleno de vigor,
Fueron el verte un día, joya del mar de oriente,
Secos los negros ojos, alta la tersa frente,
Sin ceño, sin arrugas, sin manchas de rubor 
Ensueño de mi vida, mi ardiente vivo anhelo,
¡Salud te grita el alma que pronto va a partir!
¡Salud! Ah, que es hermoso caer por darte vuelo,
Morir por darte vida, morir bajo tu cielo,
Y en tu encantada tierra la eternidad dormir.
Si sobre mi sepulcro vieres brotar un día
Entre la espesa yerba sencilla, humilde flor,
Acércala a tus labios y besa al alma mía,
Y sienta yo en mi frente bajo la tumba fría,
De tu ternura el soplo, de tu hálito el calor. 
Deja a la luna verme con luz tranquila y suave,
Deja que el alba envíe su resplandor fugaz,
Deja gemir al viento con su murmullo grave,
Y si desciende y posa sobre mi cruz un ave,
Deja que el ave entone su cántico de paz.
Deja que el sol, ardiendo, las lluvias evapore
Y al cielo tornen puras, con mi clamor en pos;
Deja que un ser amigo mi fin temprano llore
Y en las serenas tardes cuando por mí alguien ore,
¡Ora también, oh Patria, por mi descanso a Dios!
Ora por todos cuantos murieron sin ventura,
Por cuantos padecieron tormentos sin igual,
Por nuestras pobres madres que gimen su amargura;
Por huérfanos y viudas, por presos en tortura
Y ora por ti que veas tu redención final.
Y cuando en noche oscura se envuelva el cementerio
Y solos sólo muertos queden velando allí,
No turbes su reposo, no turbes el misterio,
Tal vez acordes oigas de cítara o salterio,
Soy yo, querida Patria, yo que te canto a ti.
Y cuando ya mi tumba de todos olvidada
No tenga cruz ni piedra que marquen su lugar,
Deja que la are el hombre, la esparza con la azada,
Y mis cenizas, antes que vuelvan a la nada,
El polvo de tu alfombra que vayan a formar.
Entonces nada importa me pongas en olvido.
Tu atmósfera, tu espacio, tus valles cruzaré.
Vibrante y limpia nota seré para tu oído,
Aroma, luz, colores, rumor, canto, gemido,
Constante repitiendo la esencia de mi fe.
Mi patria idolatrada, dolor de mis dolores,
Querida Filipinas, oye el postrer adiós.
Ahí te dejo todo, mis padres, mis amores.
Voy donde no hay esclavos, verdugos ni opresores,
Donde la fe no mata, donde el que reina es Dios.
Adiós, padres y hermanos, trozos del alma mía,
Amigos de la infancia en el perdido hogar,
Dad gracias que descanso del fatigoso día;
Adiós, dulce extranjera, mi amiga, mi alegría,
Adiós, queridos seres, morir es descansar.

José Rizal, 1896

My Last Farewell

Farewell, beloved Country, treasured region of the sun,
Pearl of the sea of the Orient, our lost Eden!
To you eagerly I surrender this sad and gloomy life;
And were it brighter, fresher, more florid,
Even then I’d give it to you, for your sake alone.
In fields of battle, deliriously fighting,
Others give you their lives, without doubt, without regret;
The place matters not: where there’s cypress, laurel or lily,
On a plank or open field, in combat or cruel martyrdom,
It’s all the same if the home or country asks.
I die when I see the sky has unfurled its colors
And at last after a cloak of darkness announces the day;
If you need scarlet to tint your dawn,
Shed my blood, pour it as the moment comes,
And may it be gilded by a reflection of the heaven’s newly-born light.
My dreams, when scarcely an adolescent,
My dreams, when a young man already full of life,
Were to see you one day, jewel of the sea of the Orient,
Dry those eyes of black, that forehead high,
Without frown, without wrinkles, without stains of shame.
My lifelong dream, my deep burning desire,
This soul that will soon depart cries out: Salud!
To your health! Oh how beautiful to fall to give you flight,
To die to give you life, to die under your sky,
And in your enchanted land eternally sleep.
If upon my grave one day you see appear,
Amidst the dense grass, a simple humble flower,
Place it near your lips and my soul you’ll kiss,
And on my brow may I feel, under the cold tomb,
The gentle blow of your tenderness, the warmth of your breath.
Let the moon see me in a soft and tranquil light,
Let the dawn send its fleeting radiance,
Let the wind moan with its low murmur,
And should a bird descend and rest on my cross,
Let it sing its canticle of peace.
Let the burning sun evaporate the rains,
And with my clamor behind, towards the sky may they turn pure;
Let a friend mourn my early demise,
And in the serene afternoons, when someone prays for me,
O Country, pray to God also for my rest!
Pray for all the unfortunate ones who died,
For all who suffered torments unequaled,
For our poor mothers who in their grief and bitterness cry,
For orphans and widows, for prisoners in torture,
And for yourself pray that your final redemption you’ll see.
And when the cemetery is enveloped in dark night,
And there, alone, only those who have gone remain in vigil,
Disturb not their rest, nor the mystery,
And should you hear chords from a zither or psaltery,
It is I, beloved Country, singing to you.
And when my grave, then by all forgotten,
has not a cross nor stone to mark its place,
Let men plow and with a spade scatter it,
And before my ashes return to nothing,
May they be the dust that carpets your fields.
Then nothing matters, cast me in oblivion.
Your atmosphere, your space and valleys I’ll cross.
I will be a vibrant and clear note to your ears,
Aroma, light, colors, murmur, moan, and song,
Constantly repeating the essence of my faith.
My idolized country, sorrow of my sorrows,
Beloved Filipinas, hear my last good-bye.
There I leave you all, my parents, my loves.
I’ll go where there are no slaves, hangmen nor oppressors,
Where faith doesn’t kill, where the one who reigns is God.
Goodbye, dear parents, brother and sisters, fragments of my soul,
Childhood friends in the home now lost,
Give thanks that I rest from this wearisome day;
Goodbye, sweet foreigner, my friend, my joy;
Farewell, loved ones, to die is to rest.

José Rizal, 1896

(Modern English translation by Edwin Agustín Lozada)

http://www.carayanpress.com/ultimo.html

Huling Paalam ni Dr. Jose Rizal Salin ni Andres Bonifacio

Pinipintuho kong Bayan ay paalam
lupang iniirog ng sikat ng araw
mutyang mahalaga sa dagat Silangan
kaluwalhatiang sa ami'y pumanaw.

Masayang sa iyo'y aking idudulot
ang lanta kong buhay na lubhang malungkot;
maging maringal man at labis alindog
sa kagalingan mo ay aking ding handog.

Sa pakikidigma at pamimiyapis
ang alay ng iba'y ang buhay na kipkip
walang agam-agam, maluwag sa dibdib
matamis sa puso at di ikahapis.

Saan man mautas ay di kailangan,
cipres o laurel, lirio ma'y putungan
pakikipaghamok at ang bibitayan
yaon ay gaon [?] din kung hiling ng Bayan.

Ako'y mamamatay ngayong namamalas
na sa kasilanganan ay namamanaag
yaong maligayang araw na sisikat
sa likod ng luksang nagtabing na ulap.

Ang kulay na pula kung kinakailangan
na maitina sa iyong liwayway
dugo ko'y isabog at siyang ikinang
ng kislap ng iyong maningning na ilaw.

Ang aking adhika sapul magkaisip
ng kasalukuyang bata pang maliit,
ay ang tanghaling ka at minsang masilip
sa dagat Silangan hiyas na marikit.

Natuyo ang luhang sa mata'y nunukal,
taas na ang noo't walang kapootan,
walang bakas kunot ng kapighatian
gabahid man dungis niyang kahihiyan.

[79]

Sa kabuhayang ko ang laging gunita
maningas na aking ninanasa-nasa
ay guminhawa ka ang hiyaw ng diwa
pag hingang papanaw ngayong biglang bigla.

Ikaw'y guminhawa laking kagandahang
ako'y malugmok, at ikaw ay matanghal,
hininga'y malagot, mabuhay ka lamang
bangkay ko'y masilong sa iyong kalangitan.

Kung sa libingang ko'y tumubong mamalas
sa malagong damo mahinhing bulaklak,
sa mga labi mo'y mangyaring ilapat,
sa kaluluwa ko halik ay igawad.

At sa aking noo nawa'y iparamdam,
sa lamig ng lupa ng aking libingan,
ang init ng iyong pag hingang dalisay
at simoy ng iyong pag giliw na tunay.

Bayaang ang buwan sa aki'y ititig
ang liwanag niyang lamlam at tahimik,
liwayway bayaang sa aki'y ihatid
magalaw na sinag at hanging hagibis.

Kung sakasakaling bumabang humantong
sa kruz ko'y dumapo kahit isang ibon
doon ay bayaang humuning hinahon
at dalitin niya payapang panahon.

Bayaan ang ningas ng sikat ng araw
ula'y pasingawin noong kainitan,
magbalik sa langit ng boong dalisay
kalakip ng aking pagdaing na hiyaw.

Bayaang sinoman sa katotong giliw,
tangisan maagang sa buhay pagkitil;
kurig tungkol sa akin ay may manalangin
idalangin Bayan yaring pagka himbing.

Idalanging lahat yaong nangamatay,
nangagtiis hirap na walang kapalaran
mga ina naming walang kapalaran
na inahihibik ay kapighatian.

Ang mga bao't pinapangulila,
ang mga bilanggong nagsisipagdusa,
dalanginin namang kanilang makita
ang kalayaan mong ikagiginhawa.

[80]

At kung sa madilim na gabing mapanglaw
ay lumaganap na doon sa libinga't
tanging mga patay ang nangaglalamay,
huag bagabagin ang katahimikan.

Ang kanyang hiwaga'y huag gambalain
kaipala'y maringig doon ang taginting,
tunog ng gitara't salterio'y magsaliw,
ako, Bayan, yao't kitay aawitin.

Kung ang libingan ko'y limot na ng lahat
at wala ng kruz at batong mabakas,
bayaang linangin ng taong masipag
lupa'y asarolin at kanyang ikalat.

Ang mga buto ko ay bago matunaw
mauwi sa wala at kusang maparam,
alabok ng iyong latak ay bayaang
siya ang babalang doo'y makipisan.

Kung magka gayon na'y aalintanahin
na ako sa limot iyong ihabilin
pagka't himpapawid at ang panganorin
mga lansangan mo'y aking lilibutin.

Matining na tunog ako sa dingig mo,
ilaw, mga kulay, masamyong pabango,
ang ugong at awit, pag hibik sa iyo,
pag asang dalisay ng pananalig ko.

Bayang iniirog, sakit niyaring hirap,
Katagalugang kong pinakaliliyag,
dinggin mo ang aking pagpapahimakas;
diya'y iiwan ko sa iyo ang lahat.

Ako'y patutungo sa walang busabos,
walang umiinis at verdugong hayop;
Pananalig doo'y di nakasasagot,
si Bathala lamang doo'y haring lubos.

Paalam, magulang at mga kapatid
kapilas ng aking kaluluwa't dibdib
mga kaibigan bata pang maliit
sa aking tahanan di na masisilip.

Pag pasalamatan at napahinga rin,
paalam estranherang kasuyo ko't aliw,
paalam sa inyo mga ginigiliw,
mamatay ay siyang pagkagupiling.

Andres Bonifacio would be the first to translate Rizal's poem. He would call it it Pahimakas, the poem being untitled, and distributed it all over. 


http://www.activeboard.com/forum.spark?aBID=117200&p=3&topicID=18861132

MAY BAGYO MA'T MAY RILIM

Sa loob ng aklat ni San Jose ay nalimbag din ang isang tula (nasa mp. 451-452 ng edisyong 1935) na sinulat diumano ng isang di-kilalang Tagalog (una persona tagala). Binubuo ang tula ng limang saknong at bawat saknong ay may anim na taludtod na may sukat na pipituhin at tugmang isahan. Narito ang tula:

May bagyo ma,t, may rilim
ang ola,y, titiguisin
aco,y, magpipilit din:
aquing paglalacabayin
toloyin cong hanapin
Dios na ama namin.

Cun di man magupiling
tocsong mabaomabaoin,
aco,y, mangangahas din:
itong libro,y, basahin,
at dito co hahangoin
aquing sasandatahin.

Cun dati mang nabulag
aco,y, pasasalamat,
na ito ang liuanag
Dios ang nagpahayag
sa Padreng nagsiualat
nitong mabuting sulat.

Naguiua ma,t, nabagbag
daloyong matataas,
aco,y, magsusumicad
babagohin ang lacas;
dito rin hahaguilap
timbulang icaligtas.

Cun lompo na,t, cun pilay
anong di icahacbang
naito ang aacay
magtuturo nang daan:
toncod ay inilaan
sucat pagcatibayan.

http://panitikan.com.ph/criticism/panitikanngpagsampalataya.htm 

assignment #4

                                                              Chai to Enlightenment

Once upon a time, Manu asked his teacher 'Dear Guruji, how many truly enlightened people are alive on this planet today?'. Chai Baba answered 'Truly enlightened ?'. 'Yes, 100 % enlightenment' said Manu, 'any less won't do'. 'I really don't know', said Chai Baba, 'they tend to keep a low profile'.

'Why is that ?' asked Manu in dismay, 'Why don't they come out of their hiding places and teach the world?'. Chai Baba replied 'The universe has others to do that - the enlightened ones only need to exist in order to support the Supreme. Besides, they wouldn't last long out there'. 'I still don't understand' said Manu, 'I so much would like to meet one'.

'Please Guruji tell me, how many do you think there are ?' Manu asked. 'Maybe ten or a dozen, I guess' replied the teacher. 'Only that much ? What a disaster !' Manu shouted, 'please Guruji give me some hope and tell me that there are more'. 'My biggest bet would be 100, but truly that is just wishfull thinking.' Chai Baba replied.

'Oh Guruji you make me sad. How is it possible with so many people doing yoga and honestly trying to lose their ego like I am, that only so few succeed ?' Manu asked. Chai Baba smiled and said 'That is very easy to answer my son, because the first reason why only few succeed is that losing the ego is not something that can be done.'

'What are you saying now ?' Manu sighed, 'are all my efforts in vain ? Have you been teaching me only nonsense ?'. 'Of course not, shanti shanti dear boy, all your efforts to remove your old nonsense by doing yoga, meditation and good deeds are very necessary to allow that which cannot be done to happen' Chai Baba replied. 'Why does it have to be so difficult ? I don't even understand half of what you're saying!' Manu complained. 'But you do understand my boy, you just cant' accept that in the end there is nothing you can do, there is nothing to be done, you just have to give up the doing, give up controll and surrender to the grace of the divine'. 'OK!' replied Manu, 'then that is what I will do ! From now on, I completely surrender whatever I do or don't do to God and then I will be enlightened soon for sure!'.

Chai Baba sighed, 'I said that this was only the first reason why it is really very difficult to lose the ego'. 'Oh no' said Manu, 'what else do you need from me so that I can become truly free of the suffering of this world?'. Chai Baba answered 'I need nothing my son and that is the clue. As long as you still need your enlightenment, as long as you still feel the need to escape from suffering, you can't get it. Only when you got it, you get it. It is really very simple.'

'Then what, what ?' Manu mumbled, 'is there no way out ?'. 'Sure there is my son, even if you think you are not enlightened, you can always give it your best shot' Chai Baba replied. 'But I am so very much not enlightened !' Manu cried, 'how can I pretend to be something I am not ?'. 'That is just what I am saying my dear friend,' answered Chai Baba, 'no need to pretend anything. Just give it your best, again and again. Try to stay in your light and don't believe in your darkness without hating it. Accept that everything is fine as it is, yourself included and that you are just trying your best as every enlightened being is doing'.

'Aren't enlightened beings supposed not to need to try to be enlightened ?' Manu asked. 'Sure they are my dear, but they are still free you understand. That they brought yoga to the very end doesn't mean that they lose their freedom to be whatever they want right ? That would be ludicrous. They are just really chosing to be enlightened and so can you' Chai Baba assured. 'Really ?' Manu smiled. 'Really!', Chai Baba answered. 'Just drop the issue and it will be solved in good time. Now make me some chai because all this talking has dried my throat.' Manu got up from the seat at his master's feet and said 'OK master, I will do so at once and I will give it my best shot !'. 'Good, start with chai and end with enlightenment' smiled Chai Baba.

'Hey Guruji, one last question ?' Manu tried. 'Sure, shoot' Chai Baba replied. 'Is that how truly enlightened beings hide, by pretending to just give it their best shot ?' Manu asked. Now Chai Baba cried : 'Why don't you just pretend to be a good chai wallah* ?'.

http://www.sanatansociety.org/indian_epics_and_stories/chai_baba_manu_enlightenment.htm