You are on page 1of 4


Translated by Florentino H. Hornedo The Ivatans, an ethnic group in Batanes, the northernmost province of the Philippines, have a rich oral tradition. The poem below is an English translation of a Laji, a lyric poem of the Ivatans that is part of the oral tradition of the people. Like other traditional oral literature, it is anonymous. Unlike other such lyrics, it is sung without accompaniment during important and joyous occasions. You will read the English translation of An Madalaw Ka Mo Lipus.

If you love, my beloved, count the grains of sand in thr dunes of laoag, for their number is the number of my love for you, and yet that is too small; count the number of times the waves roll for their number is the number of my love for you, and yet their number is too small; count the ripples of the water for the number is the number of my love for you, and yet that number is too small. Until our world turns upside,therefore, let us love each other.


Salvador B. Espinas Love is gentle, love is quiet Like any distant star, Love is beauty, love is music Soothing as night winds are.

Love is patient and unselfish, Divine,true,neutral,fair--Love is ageless and immortal, Lost love is just somewhere. And the heart that love abandons, Nurses a tender scar; Softly stabbing, and yet sweetly Soothing as night winds are.

Soledad R. Juan Many young people measure enjoyment in terms of a good time. They welcome their vacation as one long opportunity for a good time, and they dread nothing more than being sick in bed. The poem you will read was written by a teenage girl who was bound to a sickbed all her life, and yet she did not find her life monotonous and boring. Speak not to me of great reception halls Where stately ladies walk with stately mean; Speak not to me of dancing long at balls Nor revelry till goodness knows but when. I whould not hear of how an endless round Of parties,concerts,shows---all the rest forgot Is heaven. No, those pleasures find me bound; They are not mine to taste---I know them not. But speak to me of quiet, calm repose, When I may think and give my thoughts free play, Eplore each nook imagination knows, And roam the world a million times a day. Then shall may soul find joyful hours alone When all is mine that Fancy bids me own.


Milagros Lapid . When I was young

we would sit in the kitchen with Grandma waiting for the lumpia frying listening to the heroic tales of Grandpas feats during the revolution reliving the battle cries sugod mga kapatid and we relished the lumpia crisp wrappers and filling. now you belong to the jet age robots, astronauts,computers college and careers after hurried greetings you sit with Grandma and Grandpa but listening to world news on digital TV, tech-savvy showing recorded videos and you relish the egg rolls crisp wrappers and filling