Natatalisod ng tao kung minsan sa landas ng buhay ang isa o dalawa o ilan mang pangyayaring nauukit nang malalim sa gunita at di nalilimot. Maaaring yaon ay isang pangyayaring naging sanhi ng malaking poot o galak o lungkot o habag o lagim o sindak, nguni’t magkaiba-iba man sakali ay gayon ding may iisang matingkad na kintal sa alaala na di napapawi. Sa linakad-lakad ng mga araw, ang alaala ng mga nangyari ay maaaring mahimbing at lumabo sa gunita, subali’t ang alaalang iyan ay naroroon ding hindi nagbabago at di nawawala: napupukaw, huwag na di mapingki; nagigising at nananariwa, huwag na di masalang-tila isang aninong lumapad-kumitid, humaba-humiksi, tumingkad-lumabo ay nakakawil ding di hurnihiwalay at bubuntut-buntot sa pinagmumulan.
We Filipinos are mild drinkers. We drink for only three good reasons. We drink when we are very happy. We drink when we are very sad. And we drink for any other reason. When the Americans recaptured the Philippines, they built an air base a few miles from our barrio. Yankee soldiers became a very continue reading : We Filipinos Are Mild Drinkers, by Alejandro R. Roces
I did not think that the chief of the village was the man who could solve our problem, for the chief was the barrio philosopher. By this I mean that he was a man who explained his strange views with ever strange reasons…
The chief, however, had one merit. He was the oldest man in the barrio, and while this did not make him an authority on chickens, still anything said always carries more weight if it is said by a man with grey hairs. So when Kiko suggested consulting the chief, I voiced no objection. He untied the chicken and we both took it to the chief.
“Is this chicken a male of a female?” Kiko asked.
“That is a question that should concern only another chicken,” the chief replied.
Here, one man’s dream explodes in
water, carved in splashing splendour
by lion teeth, angel mouth, breasts
of virgins that do not rest.
The crowd parted, and up the street came the prancing, screaming, writhing women, their eyes wild, black shawls flying around their shoulders, and their long hair streaming and covered with leaves and flowers. But the Tadtarin, a small old woman with white hair, walked with calm dignity in the midst of the female tumult, a wand in one hand, a bunch of seedlings in the other. Behind her, a group of girls bore aloft a little black image of the Baptist— a crude, primitive, grotesque image, its big-eyed head too big for its puny naked torso, bobbing and swaying above the hysterical female horde and looking at once so comical and so pathetic that Don Paeng watching his wife n the sidewalk, was outraged. The image seemed to be crying for help, to be struggling to escape— a St. John indeed in the hands of the Herodiads; a doomed captive these witches were subjecting first to their derision; a gross and brutal caricature of his sex.
Taliwas sa alam ng nakararami, hindi si Balagtas ang gumawa ng balagtasan. Wala siyang kinalaman sa paglikha ng tradisyong ipinangalan sa kanya. Ang totoo, ipinanganak ang balagtasan bilang isang makabagong gawain o pakulo para sa pagdiriwang ng kaarawan ni Balagtas. Ipinanganak si Balagtas noong Abril 2, 1788, at pumanaw noong Pebrero 20, 1862. Isinakonsepto ang continue reading : Hindi kay Balagtas galing ang balagtasan
“Have you eaten?”
I turned around. It was Aida. My bow tie seemed to tighten around my collar. I mumbled something, I did not know what.
“If you wait a little while till they’ve gone, I’ll wrap up a big package for you,” she added.
I brought a handkerchief to my mouth. I might have honored her solicitude adequately and even relieved myself of any embarrassment; I could not quite believe that she had seen me, and yet I was sure that she knew what I had done, and I felt all ardor for her gone from me entirely.
Bago pa ang panahon ng mga Español, mayroon nang mayamang lawas ng panitikan sa Pilipinas. Nang mga panahong iyon, karaniwang binibigkas ang panitikan o ipinapasang salimbibig sa halip na nakasulat. Ang prekolonyal na panitikan ay isang gawaing pangkomunidad, isang pagtitipon-tipon ng pamayanan, at isang pinagsasaluhang ritwal. Ang mga impormasyong ito ay mula sa Komisyon sa continue reading : Mga epiko at kuwentong bayan
All that I love
I fold over once
And once again
And keep in a box
Or a slit in a hollow post
Or in my shoe.