Ako ang Daigdig - Alejandro G.

Abadilla sa aking daigdig

I ng tula

ako
ako
ang daigdig
ang tula

ako sa daigdig

ang tula
ako

ako ang daigdig

ang daigdig ng tula

ang tula
ako

ako
III
ang daigdig
ako
ng tula
ang damdaming
ang tula
malaya
ng daigdig
ako
ako
ang larawang
ang walang maliw na ako
buhay
ang walang kamatayang ako
ako
ang tula ng daigdig
ang buhay
II
na walang hanggan
ako
ako
ang daigdig ng tula
ang damdamin
ako
ang larawan
ang tula ng daigdig
ang buhay

ako
damdamin
ang malayang ako
larawan
matapat sa sarili
buhay
tula

ako

IV

ako

ang daigdig

sa tula

ako

ang daigdig

ng tula

ako

ang daigdig

ako

ang tula

daigdig

tula

ako
KATAUHANG LAGALAG: Alejandro G. Abadilla

Ang layo ng kalayuan ay ang kalayuan ng layo mo Sa sarili... At nalakbay mo na Mula kay

Adan ang mga panahon, Ang mga lupa, mga dagat at mga papawirin, At ikaw hanggang ngayo'y

naglalakbay pa ring Naghahanap, naghahanap Ng tubig na kinauuhawan Ng budhi-mong-

kaluluwa. At inatasan Niya si Samwel Na maging gayon, katulad mong itinalaga NiyaSa

paghahanap, sa paghahanap, At naghanap ka at kumatok, Ay, walang nagbukas! Ang pinto ng

langit Ay nakapinid sa harap mo, sa harap mo Habang ikaw'y kumakatok, At hanggang ngayo'y

kumakatok ka pa rin,O, katauhang lagalag! Ang mga yutang dantaon Ay mahabang sangkisap-

matang kasaysayan Ng buhay na di makasapit... At ang hantungang yaon Habang linalakbay ay

lalong lumalayoSa kapalaran mong itinaboy NiyaMula sa Paraiso.Mula na noon Ay ikinahiya

mo ang hubad na kagandahan At ito'y sinaplutan ng mga hangad na banyagaSa dalisay niyang

kalikasan;Mula na noon Ay itinakwil ng mga Kain na kapamuhayan mo Ang mga sambahan ng

katiwasayang Pambudhi at pangkaluluwa; At mula na noon Nagsimula na ngang mag-ugat at

umusbong Ang katuturan ng mga katuturan -- Na ang layo ng kalayuan Ay ang kalayuan ng

layo moSa sarili. At ikaw ngayon ay hindi na ang dating ikaw

If You Forget Me- Pablo Neruda the wind of banners

I want you to know that passes through my life,

one thing. and you decide

to leave me at the shore

You know how this is: of the heart where I have roots,

if I look remember

at the crystal moon, at the red branch that on that day,

of the slow autumn at my window, at that hour,

if I touch I shall lift my arms

near the fire and my roots will set off

the impalpable ash to seek another land.

or the wrinkled body of the log,

everything carries me to you, But

as if everything that exists, if each day,

aromas, light, metals, each hour,

were little boats you feel that you are destined for me

that sail with implacable sweetness,

toward those isles of yours that wait for me. if each day a flower

climbs up to your lips to seek me,

Well, now, ah my love, ah my own,

if little by little you stop loving me in me all that fire is repeated,

I shall stop loving you little by little. in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,

my love feeds on your love, beloved,

If suddenly and as long as you live it will be in your

you forget me arms

do not look for me, without leaving mine

for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,

Amor Mundi

By Christina Rossetti An undeciphered solemn signal of help or

hurt.”
“Oh where are you going with your love-

locks flowing
“Oh what is that glides quickly where velvet
On the west wind blowing along this
flowers grow thickly,
valley track?”
Their scent comes rich and sickly?”—“A
“The downhill path is easy, come with me
scaled and hooded worm.”
an it please ye,
“Oh what’s that in the hollow, so pale I
We shall escape the uphill by never
quake to follow?”
turning back.”
“Oh that’s a thin dead body which waits

the eternal term.”

So they two went together in glowing

August weather,
“Turn again, O my sweetest,—turn again,
The honey-breathing heather lay to their
false and fleetest:
left and right;
This beaten way thou beatest I fear is
And dear she was to dote on, her swift feet
hell’s own track.”
seemed to float on
“Nay, too steep for hill-mounting; nay, too
The air like soft twin pigeons too sportive
late for cost-counting:
to alight.
This downhill path is easy, but there’s no

turning back.”
“Oh what is that in heaven where gray

cloud-flakes are seven,

Where blackest clouds hang riven just at

the rainy skirt?”

“Oh that’s a meteor sent us, a message

dumb, portentous,