HARIBOL SURALISTA

HARIBOL SURALISTA
Pag-omawon an Kagurangnan, an pursang minabusol kan sakong pluma. Haribol.

An Dalan Kan sinayumahan/ The Way of the Rejected

Posted by Jai Jesus Uy Borlagdan Monday, October 27, 2008 comments (0)


An Dalan kan Sinayumahan



Hunaon ta an hurop-hurop kan sinayumahan, mantang pigdadara kaini an sadiri sa ulian.


Hihidalion niya an paghali sa pinangyarihan, kun hain an saiya nagpahali; muya niyang masampot tulos an sarong sirungan.


Mala sa gubot na dai niya masabutan sa laog, muya niyang masampot tulos an madali masabot.


An hurop-hurop kan sinayumahan, hunaon ta, mantang sa madiklom na agihan pigmamati niya an dalan. Sa saiyang timak saralak an gapo buda awot, pero anas panas an saiyang namit, an saiyang tanda, puros tunok.


Sa pandong kan mga patente kan banggi an brilyanteng nabibilog sa saiyang mata pigrarayo niya an silyab.


Pigtatais an saiyang lambang lakad kan tarom kan tipak na mga batiris. Pigsususog niya sa batak sa paril an pasa sa saiyang laog.


Dawa anong dali-dali, halaba ining banggi arog kan pagtagbo kan dai na makakaagi. Dai tulos matatapos an muya nang matapos, dulo na maduso an haldat na pigtitios.


An muyang lingawan lalo an linaw sa piyong, sa diklom dulo an libong, dulo an pagtalibong sa puon.



The Way of the Rejected


Let us approximate the thoughts of the rejected, as he carries himself home.


Quickly, he will leave the place where it happened, the place where the one who left is in; he wants to arrive at a shelter immediately.


Because inside is a tangle he cannot undo, he likes to quickly reach something easy to know.


Let us approximate the thoughts of the rejected, while in the dark path he feels for the way. In his every step stones and grass combine, but all he can taste is sharpness, all he remembers are thorns.


Under the canopy of night lights, he veils the brilliance of the gem that is forming in his eyes.


His every step is grounded by the blade of broken pebbles; he traces in the concrete cracks the shards within him.


No matter how he hastens, the night is long like meeting one who will not arrive. What is brought to a stop hurriedly will not end, the sting of injuries will ache more while suffered.


The clarity of what is to be forgotten intensifies in the closing of eyes, perplexity increases in the darkness, one circles around the beginning even more.

Photo: UP Diliman Campus in B&W by Glenn Michael Tan

 

Om Namo Bhagavate Vasudevaya (I offer my humble obeisances to the Lord of the Universe Sri Krishna)

Posted by Jai Jesus Uy Borlagdan Sunday, October 26, 2008 comments (0)

Om Namo Bhagavate Vasudevaya

Gabos nagpuon
sa sarong hangos kan Dios
bilang Maha-Visnu.
Nakahigda sa dagat kan pagmukna
hali saiya an kagabsan namundag.

Om namo bhagavate vasudevaya
Gabos na paggalang pigdudulot ko Saiya.

Nakatukaw sa satuyang puso

Apat an kamot, Paramatma
Lotus, pamakol, sankarsana chakra
arikurong an kamot kan Kagurangnan
sa satuyang daghan

Namaste! Om namo bhagavate vasudevaya!
Gabos na paggalang pigdudulot ko Saiya.

Para linigon an kinaban
kan gabos na kabalbalan
nag-abot an Dios bilang Krishna
an totoo Niyang itsura,
daing sagkodan an kagayunan, kapangyarihan
kamurawayan!

Om namo bhagavate, om namo bhagavate....vasudevaya
Gabos na paggalang pigdudulot ko, gabos na pagkamuot pig-aatang ko
pigsasamba taka Sri Krishna!

 

Ako Kalag Omay (2015)

Buhay-Gadan (2014)

Ha'dit sa byahe buda iba pang mga bagahe (2013)

Hamot kan Narumdom (2011)

Suralista: Mga Rawitdawit (2010)

Suralista: Mga Rawitdawit (2010)
Makukua sa: Gabos na Lucky Educ. outlets (Naga, Legazpi, Tabaco, Polangui, Sorsogon); Tabaco: Arden,Imprintados Advertising. Naga: Lucky Educational Supply. O kaya sa 0917 524 2309

Que Lugar Este kan Dayo sa Sadiring Banwa (2009)

Que Lugar Este kan Dayo sa Sadiring Banwa (2009)
"Maunod, magabat. Alagad makamuyahon ta magian basahon, ta makamuyahon saka labas an tanog. Makata, uragon." Gode B. Calleja. Abilable sa gabos na Lucky Educ. Supply Outlets; Kulturang Bikolnon. For inquiries:0917 524 2309

Maynila: Libro ng Pobya (1999)

Maynila: Libro ng Pobya (1999)
Makukua sa gabos na Lucky Educ Supply outlets buda sa Imprintados Ads sa Tabaco City. Para sa mga kahaputan mag-text sa 0917 524 2309

Karangahan Online

Karangahan Online
Karangahan: Pagranga sa Panurat Bikolnon. Kagibo: Jimple Borlagdan. Pinduton an ritrato para makaduman sa Karangahan

On Borlagdan's Poetry


A Rush of Metaphors, Tremor of Cadences, and Sad Subversions
By Tito Genova Valiente
titovaliente@yahoo.com

The first time I read the poems of Jesus Jaime Borlagdan, Jimple to those who know him, I felt immediately the seething movement of the words. There was a rush of metaphors in his works. I immediately liked the feeling that the rhythm caused in one’s reading for poetry, in my book, should always be read aloud. I was hearing the voice. It was a voice that happened to sound from afar and it was struggling to link up with a present that would not easily appear.

It was heartbreaking to feel the form. I felt the lines constricting. I saw the phrases dangling to tease, breaking the code of straight talk and inverting them to seduce the mind to think beyond the words. Somewhere, the poems were reverting back to direct sentences, weakening the art of poetry with its universe of ellipses and nuances, but then as suddenly as the words lightened up, the poems then dipped back into a silent retreat, into a cave, to lick its own wounds from the confrontation that it dared to initiate.

For this column, I decide to share parts of the longer paper I am writing about this poet.

In Karangahan, the poet begins with: Bulebard, ikang muymuyon na salog/ki gatas buda patenteng nakahungko,/ako ngonian kahurona. Borlagdan translates this into:Boulevard, you forlorn river/ of milk and downcast lights/ speak to me now. Savor the translation, for in Bikol that which is a dialog has become an entreaty.)

The poet is always talking to someone but in An istorya ninda, an osipon ta, he talks about a the fruits of some narrative: Ta sa dara nindang korona kita an hadi/ sa krus, kita su may nakatadok na espada./Naitaram na ninda an saindang istorya./Punan ta na man su satong osipon./This I translate as: For in the crown they bear we are the King/ on the cross, with the embedded sword./ Marvel at this construction, as the poet cuts at the word “hadi” and begins the next line with “krus” and the “espada.” Marvel, too, at how he looks at conversion and faith, a process that made us special but also wounded us with ourselves stuck with the sword.

Finally, the poet says those lines of the true believer: They have already spoken their story, now let us begin with our tale. The poet does not have a translation but will the istorya in this line be “history” and osipon be “myth.” Shall these last four lines in the first stanza be both a subversion of our faith embedded in a foreign culture or a celebration of what we are not, and what we have not become?
Puni na an paghidaw. Puni na an pagluwas/hali sa kwartong pano ki luha, puni na/an paghiling sa luwas kan bintana./Puni na an paghidaw para sa binayaan./Puni na an pagsulit sa daluging tinimakan./Puni na an paghidaw sa mga sinugbang utoban. Terrifying lines as the poet calls us to begin the remembering and also begin the moving out from the room full of tears. In the poet’s mind, the lacrimarum vale or valley of tears had become an intimate area for instigating his own release.

The rhythm is there as in a prayer. But it is no prayer. There is the repetition but it is not a plea. There is the self but it is one that has turned away from itself into something else. That self is one that shall face the recollection of the faith that has been burned.

And yet the poet, resolute when he wants to, loves to sing and hint of fear and anxiety. Even when he is merely observing children playing in the rains, he summons images of terrible beauty. The skies become diklom na pinandon na “may luho” (with hole). From this hole, comes the sarong pisi ki sildang/ tisuhon na buminulos. The poet stays with this metaphor with such intensity that the silken thread coming from the hole justifiably becomes luhang garo hipidon na busay/paluwas sa mata/kan dagom. Dark wit and a penchant for the horrifying are tandem graces in these lines.

This is the poet who can, without self-consciousness, tell us of the …haya/kan mga ayam na namimibi/nakakapabuskad ki barahibo/nakakaulakit ki lungsi. He whispers of “halas na rimuranon, malamti/sa hapiyap kan mga bituon.”
This is a startling universe, where dogs pray (and bay), and where fears bloom and paleness afflicts and infects, and serpents are caressed by the stars.





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