HARIBOL SURALISTA

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

Ano an guminadan kay Bidang Badong?

Posted by Jai Jesus Uy Borlagdan Saturday, August 08, 2009 comments (0)



1.
Ano an guminadan kay Bidang Badong?
An dai pigdudultan ki dawa anong tarom.
An kontraryo kan may pusong maitom,
an parasurog kan mga matakton.

Moog sa dampog sa tangod kan mga harong
kaskas kan kikilat, dalugdog an hagong.
Laad sa rumirom, ilaw sa madiklom,
Bantay kan maray, kamot kan matadong.

An kada suriyaw saiyang dangog.
Harokan ki tabang, saro niya pang apod.
Digdi sa banwang gubot, siya an kagdaog
kan katanosan siya sana an bidang bantog.

2.
Siya baga an kag-utas kay Kulas na Ma’bas
na tian sa halnas, dawa anong gakot hulkas.
Siya man an kagtipig kay Boyong Boy Lupig
na gari paramarong urig pag minakikig.

Sisay makalingaw kan kastahan ninda kan Bakulaw na Bulaw?
Puon Ligao sagkod Malinao, sa kusog ki sampulong karabaw
tinados niya su paslong tandayag na garong alang na tungaw.

Daing minapasar, warang minaaser
na paragibong kabuahan
pag si Badong nakatener.
Sa sampulong ribong maan
dai ki nakakalagpas,
sa saro niyang karagnas,
gabos minatipwas.

4.
Pero kan inarog si Badong ni Goryong Para-arog,
na an dagit sa bida sagkod sa pagkaturog,
garo nanggad siya sa hiro, taram buda layog
su kontrabidang patalikod kun minaayog.

Dara an itsura ni Badong, rinaudas kaini su banwa
dakol na dinistroso, pahingurag su pinatigaya.
May nagngalas, pero kadaklan nakamating dagit
sa saindang kagsalbar na naging paradara ki sakit.


Paluwas si Badong sa saiyang harong
kan su enot na mga gapo pinaturon.
Sa saiyang ngalas siya napaatras
pigngayo-ngayo kun nata siya ginapo.

“Arog pa kaini an saindang balos
sa tabang na tinao ko sainda gabos?”
Muto-muto ni Badong mantang napapano
an nalugad niyang pandok ki dugo.

Kaya kan magka-ribok sa banwa
an Bidang Badong dai lamang nadara
su mga suriyaw ki tabang dai pig-ako kan saiyang talinga.
Uminabot sana siya kan su ribok tapos na.

Kuminamang palan su kalayong halas sa Mayong
pasiring sa mga tawong tururugon sa saindang mga harong
su nakaligtas mabibilang sana sa kamot
pero su mga gadan kaipuhan dasukon sa kalot.

Su banwang saiyang pigsurog
ngonian nakalubong sa alpog
pero silag niya an mga hiling na naghaharapot
kun nata dai lamang siya uminagap kan sinda pigraraot?

Puon kaito si Bidang Badong dai na nasilag.
Kulibat kan iba yaon ini sa harayo
sa ibang banwa, ngani sa mundo makasiblag.
Su nahiling kaini garo dai maako.

5.
Sarong aldaw mga aki an nakakua
kan mga tulang sa sarong tagong kuweba.
An bukana kaini tanaw an banwa.
Garo ini sana an ginibo kan ini buhay pa.

Nagrarambong na banwa an maan niya sa hudyan niyang mga aldaw,
na garo nagpuon buda naampos sa nganang paghidaw.

Hunyo 27, 2009. Pawa.

 

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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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