Friday, January 28, 2011

INDARAPATRA AT SULAYMAN

Indarapatra at Sulayman
(Epikong Mindanao)


Si Indarapatra ay ang matapang na hari ng Mantapuli. Nabalitaan niya ang malimit na pananalakay ng mga dambuhalang ibon at mababangis na hayop sa ibang panig ng Mindanao. Labis niyang ikinalungkot ang mga nangyayaring ito sa mga naninirahan sa labas ng kaharian ng Mantapuli.

Ipinatawag ni Indarapatra ang kanyang kapatid na si Sulayman, isang matapang na kawal. Inutusan ni Indarapatra si Sulayman upang puksain ang mga ibon at hayop na namiminsala sa mga tao. Agad na sumunod si Sulayman. Bago umalis si Sulayman, nagtanim si Indarapatra ng halawan sa may durungawan. Aniya kay Sulayman, "Sa pamamagitan ng halamang ito ay malalaman ko ang nangyayari sa iyo. Kapag namatay ang halamang ito, nanganaghulugang ikaw ay namatay."

Sumakay si Sulayman sa hangin. Narating niya ang Kabilalan. Wala siyang nakitang tao. Walang anu-ano ay nayanig ang lupa, kaya pala ay dumating ang halimaw na si Kurita. Matagal at madugo ang paglalaban ni Sulayman at ni Kurita. Sa wakas, napatay rin ni Sulayman si Kurita, sa tulong ng kanyang kris.

Nagtungo naman si Sulayman sa Matutum. Kanyang hinanap ang halimaw na kumakain ng tao, na kilala sa tawag na Tarabusaw. Hinagupit nang hinagupit ni Tarabusaw si Sulayman sa pamamagitan ng punongkahoy. Nang nanlalata na si Tarabusaw ay saka ito sinaksak ni Sulayman ng kanyang espada.

Pumunta si Sulayman sa Bundok ng Bita. Wala rin siyang makitang tao. Ang iba ay nakain na ng mga halimaw at ang natirang iba ay nasa taguan. Luminga-linga pa si Sulayman nang biglang magdilim pagkat dumating ang dambuhalang ibong Pah. Si Sulayman ang nais dagitin ng ibon. Mabilis at ubos lakas ng tinaga ito ni Sulayman. Bumagsak at namatay ang Pah. Sa kasamaang palad nabagsakan ng pakapak ng ibon si Sulayman na siya niyang ikinamatay.

Samantala, ang halaman ni Sulayman sa Mantapuli ay laging pinagmamasdan ni Indarapatra. Napansin niyang nanlata ang halaman at alam niyang namatay si Sulayman.

Hinanap ni Indarapatra ang kanyang kapatid. Nagpunta siya sa Kabalalan at nakita niya ang kalansay ni Tarabusaw. Alam niyang napatay ito ng kapatid niya. Ipinagpatuloy ni Indarapatra ang paghahanap niya kay Sulayman. Narating niya ang bundok ng Bita. Nakita niya ang patay na ibong Pah. Inangat ni Indarapatra ang pakpak ng ibon at nakita ang bangkay ni Sulayman. Nanangis si Indarapatra at nagdasal upang pabaliking muli ang buhay ni Sulayman. Sa di kalayua'y may nakita siyang banga ng tubig. Winisikan niya ng tubig ang bangkay at muling nabuhay si sulayman. Parang nagising lamang ito mula sa mahimbing na pagtulog. Nagyakap ang magkapatid dahil sa malaking katuwaan.

Pinauwi na ni Indarapatra si Sulayman. Nagtuloy pa si Indarapatra sa Bundok Gurayu. Dito'y wala ring natagpuang tao. Nakita niya ang kinatatakutang ibong may pitong ulo. Sa tulong ng kanyang engkantadong sibat na si juris pakal ay madali niyang napatay ang ibon.

Hinanap niya ang mga tao. May nakit siyang isang magandang dalaga na kumukuha ng tubig sa sapa. Mabilis naman itong nakapagtago. Isang matandang babae ang lumabas sa taguan at nakipag-usap kay Indarapatra. Ipinagsama ng matandang babae si Indarapatra sa yungib na pinagtataguan ng lahat ng tao sa pook na iyon. Ibinalita ni Indarapatra ang mga pakikilaban nilang dalawa ni Sulayman sa mga halimaw at dambuhalang ibon. sinabi rin niyang maaari na silang lumabas sa kanilang pinagtataguan. Sa laki ng pasasalamat ng buong tribu, ipinakasal kay Indarapatra ang anak ng hari, ang magandang babaeng nakita ni Indarapatra sa batisan.

Sunday, January 23, 2011

MI ULTIMO ADIOS BY DR. JOSE RIZAL.

Mi Ultimo Adios

Jose Rizal was executed on December 30 1896. He was imprisoned in
Fort Santiago Intramuros, he was a revolutionary and his writings were said to entice insurgency. However I don’t think the Spanish needed to much of an exuse.

Jose Rizal, before his execution by firing squad at Rizal or Luneta Park, wrote Rizal’s last poem Mi Ultimo Adios or My Ultimate Goodbye

Interestingly enough his original writing was said to have no title, the title Mi Ultimo Adios was given by Mariano Ponce.

Mi Ultimo Adios

Farewell, my adored Land, region of the sun caressed,
Pearl of the Orient Sea, our Eden lost,
With gladness I give you my Life, sad and repressed;
And were it more brilliant, more fresh and at its best,
I would still give it to you for your welfare at most.

On the fields of battle, in the fury of fight,
Others give you their lives without pain or hesitancy,
The place does not matter: cypress laurel, lily white,
Scaffold, open field, conflict or martyrdom's site,
It is the same if asked by home and Country.

I die as I see tints on the sky b'gin to show
And at last announce the day, after a gloomy night;
If you need a hue to dye your matutinal glow,
Pour my blood and at the right moment spread it so,
And gild it with a reflection of your nascent light!

My dreams, when scarcely a lad adolescent,
My dreams when already a youth, full of vigor to attain,
Were to see you, gem of the sea of the Orient,
Your dark eyes dry, smooth brow held to a high plane
Without frown, without wrinkles and of shame without stain.

My life's fancy, my ardent, passionate desire,
Hail! Cries out the soul to you, that will soon part from thee;
Hail! How sweet 'tis to fall that fullness you may acquire;
To die to give you life, 'neath your skies to expire,
And in your mystic land to sleep through eternity !

If over my tomb some day, you would see blow,
A simple humble flow'r amidst thick grasses,
Bring it up to your lips and kiss my soul so,
And under the cold tomb, I may feel on my brow,
Warmth of your breath, a whiff of your tenderness.

Let the moon with soft, gentle light me descry,
Let the dawn send forth its fleeting, brilliant light,
In murmurs grave allow the wind to sigh,
And should a bird descend on my cross and alight,
Let the bird intone a song of peace o'er my site.

Let the burning sun the raindrops vaporize
And with my clamor behind return pure to the sky;
Let a friend shed tears over my early demise;
And on quiet afternoons when one prays for me on high,
Pray too, oh, my Motherland, that in God may rest I.

Pray thee for all the hapless who have died,
For all those who unequalled torments have undergone;
For our poor mothers who in bitterness have cried;
For orphans, widows and captives to tortures were shied,
And pray too that you may see you own redemption.

And when the dark night wraps the cemet'ry
And only the dead to vigil there are left alone,
Don't disturb their repose, don't disturb the mystery:
If you hear the sounds of cithern or psaltery,
It is I, dear Country, who, a song t'you intone.

And when my grave by all is no more remembered,
With neither cross nor stone to mark its place,
Let it be plowed by man, with spade let it be scattered
And my ashes ere to nothingness are restored,
Let them turn to dust to cover your earthly space.

Then it doesn't matter that you should forget me:
Your atmosphere, your skies, your vales I'll sweep;
Vibrant and clear note to your ears I shall be:
Aroma, light, hues, murmur, song, moanings deep,
Constantly repeating the essence of the faith I keep.

My idolized Country, for whom I most gravely pine,
Dear Philippines, to my last goodbye, oh, harken
There I leave all: my parents, loves of mine,
I'll go where there are no slaves, tyrants or hangmen
Where faith does not kill and where God alone does reign.

Farewell, parents, brothers, beloved by me,
Friends of my childhood, in the home distressed;
Give thanks that now I rest from the wearisome day;
Farewell, sweet stranger, my friend, who brightened my way;
Farewell, to all I love. To die is to rest.

KATAPUSANG HIBIK NG PILIPINAS

Katapusang Hibik Ng Pilipinas
Andres Bonifacio
 
Spanish Period
 
 
Sumikat na Ina sa sinisilangan
ang araw ng poot ng Katagalugan,
tatlong daang taong aming iningatan
sa dagat ng dusa ng karalitaan.

Walang isinuhay kaming iyong anak
sa bagyong masasal ng dalita't hirap;
iisa ang puso nitong Pilipinas
at ikaw ay di na Ina naming lahat.

Sa kapuwa Ina'y wala kang kaparis...
ang layaw ng anak: dalita't pasakit;
pag nagpatirapang sa iyo'y humibik,
lunas na gamot mo ay kasakit-sakit.

Gapusing mahigpit ang mga Tagalog,
hinain sa sikad, kulata at suntok,
makinahi't biting parang isang hayop;
ito baga, Ina, ang iyong pag-irog?

Ipabilanggo mo't sa dagat itapon;
barilin, lasunin, nang kami'y malipol.
Sa aming Tagalog, ito baga'y hatol
Inang mahabagin, sa lahat ng kampon?

Aming tinitiis hanggang sa mamatay;
bangkay nang mistula'y ayaw pang tigilan,
kaya kung ihulog sa mga libingan,
linsad na ang buto't lumuray ang laman.

Wala nang namamana itong Pilipinas
na layaw sa Ina kundi pawang hirap;
tiis ay pasulong, patente'y nagkalat,
rekargo't impuwesto'y nagsala-salabat.

Sarisaring silo sa ami'y inisip,
kasabay ng utos na tuparing pilit,
may sa alumbrado---kaya kaming tikis,
kahit isang ilaw ay walang masilip.

Ang lupa at buhay na tinatahanan,
bukid at tubigang kalawak-lawakan,
at gayon din pati ng mga halaman,
sa paring Kastila ay binubuwisan.

Bukod pa sa rito'y ang mga iba pa,
huwag nang saysayin, O Inang Espanya,
sunod kaming lahat hanggang may hininga,
Tagalog di'y siyang minamasama pa.

Ikaw nga, O Inang pabaya't sukaban,
kami'y di na iyo saan man humanggan,
ihanda mo, Ina, ang paglilibingan
sa mawawakawak na maraming bangkay.

Sa sangmaliwanag ngayon ay sasabog
ang barila't kanyong katulad ay kulog,
ang sigwang masasal sa dugong aagos
ng kanilang bala na magpapamook.

Di na kailangan sa iyo ng awa
ng mga Tagalog, O Inang kuhila,
paraiso namin ang kami'y mapuksa,
langit mo naman ang kami'y madusta.

Paalam na Ina, itong Pilipinas,
paalam na Ina, itong nasa hirap,
paalam, paalam, Inang walang habag,
paalam na ngayon, katapusang tawag.

Friday, January 21, 2011

FOLK TALE

THE ANTING-ANTING OF MANUELITO

The Anting-Anting is a stone or other small object covered with cabalistic inscriptions. It is worn around the neck, and is supposed to render its owner impervious to knife or bullet. Many are wearing these charms, especially the Tulisanes or outlaws. The Anting-Anting must not be confused, however, with the scapular, a purely religious symbol worn by a great number of the Christian Filipinos.
Many of the older Filipinos remember Manuelito, the great Tulisane, who, more than fifty years ago, kept all the Laguna de Bai district in a state of fear. His robber band was well organized and obeyed his slightest wish. He had many boats on the lake and many hiding places in the mountains, and throughout the country there was no villager who did not fear to oppose him, or who would refuse to help him in any way when required to do so.
In vain the Guardia Civil hunted him. Many times they surrounded the band, but Manuelito always escaped. Many shots were fired at him, but he was never hit; and once, when he was cut off from his men and surrounded, he broke through the line, and though fifty bullets whistled around him he did not receive a scratch.
The officers of the Guardia Civil blamed their men for the bad marksmanship that allowed Manuelito to escape. They told all the people that it should never occur again, and promised that the next fight should end in the death of the outlaw. The people, however, did not believe that Manuelito could be killed, for he wore on his breast a famous Anting-Anting that he had received from Mangagauay, the giver of life and death.
This charm was a stone covered with mysterious signs. It was wrapped in silk and hung by a string from the robber's neck, and even if a gun were fired within a few feet of him the Anting-Anting was sure to turn the bullet in another direction. It was this charm that always saved him from the Guardia Civil.
Manuelito was very proud of his Anting-Anting, and many times, when a fiesta was being held in some town, he and his band would come down from the mountains and take part in the games. Manuelito would stand in the town plaza and allow his men to shoot at him, and each time the Anting-Anting would turn aside the bullets. The people were very much impressed, and though a few of the wiser ones secretly thought that the guns were only loaded with powder, they were afraid to say anything; so the greater number thought it very wonderful and believed that there was no charm so powerful as the Anting-Anting of Manuelito.
For years the Tulisane, protected by his charm, continued to rob and plunder. The Guardia Civil hunted him everywhere, but could never kill him. He grew bolder and bolder, and even came close to Manila to rob the little towns just outside the city.
At last the government grew tired of sending out the Guardia Civil, and ordered a regiment of Macabebes to hunt and kill the Tulisane and his men.
Manuelito was at Pasay when news was brought to him that the Macabebes were coming. Instead of running from these fierce little fighters, he decided to meet them, and many people offered to help him, believing that the Anting-Anting would turn away all bullets and give them victory. So Manuelito and many men left the town, built trenches in the hills near San Pedro Macati, and waited for the Macabebes to appear.
They had not long to wait. The Macabebes, hurrying from Manila, reached San Pedro Macati and soon found that Manuelito was waiting to fight them. They left the town at once and advanced on the Tulisane trenches.
It was a great fight. From the other hills close by many people watched the battle. Five times the Macabebes advanced, and were forced to fall back before the fierce fire of the Tulisanes. But the Macabebe never knows defeat, and once more their line went forward and in one terrible charge swept over the trenches and bayoneted the outlaws. In vain Manuelito called on his men to fight. They broke and ran in every direction. Then, seeing that all was lost, Manuelito started to follow them; but a volley rang out, and, struck by twenty bullets, he fell to the ground dead. The Macabebes chased the flying Tulisanes and killed that of all the band only a few many, safely reached the mountains.
While the Macabebes were chasing the outlaws, many people came down from the hills and stood around the body of Manuelito. They could hardly believe their eyes, but the many wounds and the blood staining the ground proved that the great Tulisane was indeed dead.
What of the Anting-Anting? Had it lost its power?
One man timidly unbuttoned the shirt of the dead robber and pulled out the charm. The mystery was explained. Fixed firmly in the center of the Anting-Anting was a silver bullet. There was but one explanation. The Macabebes had melted a statue of the Virgin and used it to make bullets to fire at Manuelito. Against such bullets the charm was useless, but against ordinary lead it never would have failed. Had not the people seen Manuelito's own men fire at him?
The charm was taken from the neck of the dead Tulisane and many copies were made of it. Even to this day hundreds of people are wearing them. They will tell you about Manuelito's great fight and also about his famous Anting-Anting.
"But," you say, "the Anting-Anting was useless. Manuelito was killed."
They answer, "Yes, Senor, it is true; but the Macabebes used bullets of silver. Had they used lead the story would have been different. Poor Manuelito!"
When the Lilies Return
A legend of the Chinese Invasion. Quiapo, even at the time of the early Spaniards, and for years after, was a deserted field. The story is an old one and generally known to the Tagallos.
At the time when the Pasig flowed peacefully along between flowery banks; when its breast was not torn by puffing steamers; and when only a few clustering huts marked the present site of Manila, there grew on the banks of the river a beautiful field of lilies.
The lilies glistened like silver in the sunlight, and their sweet odor filled the air with delicious perfume. No hand plucked them from the earth, and no foot trampled out their fragrance; for an ancient prophecy had said that while the lilies stood the happiness of the people should endure.
But after a time there came dark days in the history of the Philippines. Yellow hordes swept across the water and carried all before them. The people could hardly expect to resist the invaders, for their warrior king, Loku, had profaned the word of the god, and, in the form of a lizard, was fulfilling his punishment. Their armies were weak and scattered, and the conquerors marched on in triumph.
As report after report of disaster reached Luzon, the people trembled for the safety of their fair land. Warriors gathered hastily for the defense of the nation, and all waited for the enemy to appear.
One day the water was dotted with the junks of the invaders. They came slowly down the bay, and anchored near the mouth of the Pasig.
Then from the boats poured the yellow warriors. Spears rained upon them, stones and arrows laid them low, but their numbers were countless. The people were swept back along the river banks.
Fiercely they fought, but numbers told against them. Foot by foot they were pressed back, till they stood on the border of the field of lilies, where they made their last stand. But it was to no purpose.
The invaders poured from the ships, and in one desperate charge drove back the ranks of the people, who fought and died among their sacred lilies.
All through the night the battle raged, and at daybreak, when the victorious invaders rested on their spears, the beautiful field was no more.
The lilies were crushed and torn. The bodies of dead and dying warriors lay everywhere, and the crushed flowers were stained with the blood of friend and foe. The peace of the land was lost.
Many years have passed since then. New races have come to the Islands, and new manners and customs have been introduced. The Pasig still flows on to the sea, but its banks are harnessed by bridges. Lofty dwellings and stores take the place of the little huts, and a great city marks the site of the little village.
Where once was the beautiful field is now a busy part of the great city. It is called Quiapo, after the lilies. Many of the older people remember the prophecy and wonder if the lilies will ever return.
The land is now a peaceful and contented one. Comfort and happiness may be found among its inhabitants. Perhaps the fair, strange women from the great land over the sea are the lilies. Who can tell?


http://www.sacred-texts.com/asia/pfs/pfs15.htm

EPIC OF BANTUGAN

The people of Mindanao had rich literatures that exist only in their minds and memories. Only recently that these epic poetries were put in writing, so these can be studied by the public. Locally called "Darangan", these epic poetries were similar to those of that Homer's Iliad and Odyssey.
The Darangan tells of the sentimental and romantic adventures of noble warriors, one of them, is about a warrior-prince called Bantugan.. Prince Bantugan was the brother of the chieftain of a village called Bumbaran. Bantugan owned a magic shield, was protected by divine spirits called "Tonongs" and was capable of rising from the dead. Once his enemies attacked Bembaran, thinking he was dead. In the nick of time, Bantugan's soul was recovered and he saved the village.
There is also an episode, where Prince Bantugan was on a quest and fought his enemies with his magic Kampilan (Native sword). Soon, he got tired and fell on to the water. A crocodile delivered him to his enemies, but he regained his strength, escaped his captors, and commands an oar less ship and won the battle.
There were also "Darangan epic poetries that relates stories of wars about abducted princesses. Just like the chronicles of the Trojan War.
The Darangan is one of the oldest and longest Philippine Epic poetries. Several nights were needed to recite the twenty five beautiful chapters. The Darangan, sung in its original, possessed a sustained beauty and dignity, it might be studied for its esthetic values alone.


http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Philippine_epic_poetry