THE ANATOMY OF A FILIPINO

LEGEND
All: I like to think that I am a Filipino, that I am as Good, a Filipino as Anyone. COLORS:
All – yellow
Girls: My heart thrills, when I Hear the National anthem, being played. Boys – light green
Girls – light blue
Boys: And my Blood Rises, when I see our flag, Fluttering in the breeze.
Boy (solo) –orange
All: And Yet, I find myself asking, How Filipino Am I, Really?
Girls (solo) – gray
Boys: My First Name is American.
Girls: My Last Name Is Chinese.

Boys: When I am with girlfriends, or more correctly, when I am with my friends, who happen to be girls - I talk
to them in English.

Girls:If they are thirsty, I buy them a Bottle of American coke.

Boys: If they are hungry, I treat them to an Italian Pizza pie.
All: And when, I have the money, I give them a real Chinese Lauriat.

Boy (solo): Considering all these, considering my taste, for many things foreign, what right do I have, to call
myself, a Filipino?
Girls (solo): Should I not call myself, a culture orphan? The illegitimate child of many races?
All: Rightly or wrongly, whether we like it or not, we are the end products of our history, fortunately or
unfortunately, our history is a co-mingling, of polyglot influences.

Boys: Malayan and Chinese.

Girls: Spanish and British.
Boys: American and Japanese.

All: This is historic fact we cannot ignore, a cultural reality we cannot escape, form to believe otherwise, is to
indulge in fantasy.
Boy (solo): I must confess, I am an extremely confused and Bewildered young man. Wherever I am, whatever
I may be doing, I am bombarded on all sides, by people who want me, to search for my national identity.
All: Tell me the Language I speak should be replaced by Filipino; they urge me to do away with things foreign,
to act, and think, and buy Filipino.
Girl (solo): Even in art, I am getting bothered and bewildered.
All: The Writer should use Filipino as his medium, the nationalists cry.

Boys: The Painter should use his genius, in portraying themes purely Filipino, they demand.
Girls: The Composer should exploit endless possibilities of the haunting kundiman, they insist.
All: All these sound wonderful. But Rizal used Spanish, when he wrote, Noli and Fili.

Boys: Was he less of a nationalist, because of it? Must the artist, to be truly Filipino, paint with the juice of the
duhat?
Girls: And must he draw picture, of topless Muslim women or Igorot warriors in G-String?
All: And if the composer desert the kundiman, and he writes song faithful to the spirit of the Youths of today,
does he become Unfilipino? We are what we are today, because of our History.

Boys: In our veins, pulses blood with traces of Chinese, and Spanish, and American, but It does not stop,
being a Filipino because of these.
Girls: Our culture, is tinges with foreign influences, but it has become rich therely.
All: This mingling in fact, could speed us on the road to national greatness, look at America, it is a great country,
and yet, it is the melting pot of Italian, and German, British, and French, or Irish and Swedish.
Boy (solo):Filipinism, after all, is in the heart.
All: If that heart beats faster because the Philippines is making progress, if it fills with compassion because
its people are suffering, then it belongs to a true Filipino.
All:And it throbs with pride in our past, if it pulses with awareness of the present, if it beats with a faith in the
future, then we could ask for nothing, more all other things are Unimportant.
Boys: I have, an American First Name.
Girls: And I have, a Chinese Last Name.

All: And I’ am proud, very, very proud, - because Underneath these names, beats A Filipino Heart!

The Resiliency of a Filipino

by William G. Bacani
B : Filipino is resilient
G : Since time immemorial, we are tested by countless calamities; volcanic eruptions, devastating
earthquakes and lahar flows, super typhoons, flash floods and landslides.
B : Victoriously, we surmounted these ordeals and pains, beyond imagination of the human race
G : Instant death of our loved ones, claimed by transportation mishaps and natural disasters. Thousands also
die in hunger and malnutrition.
All : Including ambushes and endless wars in Mindanao. They trampled our basic human rights, such as the
right to live
G (solo) : I lost my loving husband, who didn't want to join Abu Sayyaf.
G (solo) : I lost my only son, who opted to become a military man.
G : We lost our innocent children and women, we lost our homes and properties.
B : Survivors are Filipinos. The wrath of nature and cruel destiny may steal everything from us.
B (solo) : Wealth, properties, and family
All : But the Filipinos never give up
B : For us we are continuously scourged by the test of time. The spirit to survive and to bounce back remains
undefeated
All : I'm as pliant as a bamboo for I'm a man of Earth
G : My hair may all be blown away by the winds
B : And my legs may be crippled by the smash of waves
All : But I will stand and pick up the shattered pieces of myself and continue to live
B : Resolute to survive, clothed with an inspiration to live, not only for my family but also for my beloved
country
All : Filipinos unite in the midst of crisis, regardless of socio-economic status, tradition and creed
G : The world has seen the magnanimous spirit of the Filipinos in crucial times.
All : The gap between the rich and the poor was narrowed
G (solo) : Envy was replaced by sympathy
G (solo) : Hatred was conquered by love
B (solo) : Selfishness was set aside
B : And saving one's live is the ultimate desire
All : History tells us that the Filipinos have captured innumerable foes, natural and not. And shall always strive
to champion in all odds. Because innate in the Filipino is the will to survive
B : We may be daunted by the horrible scenes around us. But certainly, we will be strengthened by our
unwavering faith in God.
G : We have been lotted by many nations in the world, for our resiliency during disasters, others die in saving
lives.
All : But only few realize, that we are able to survive, because our spirit to fight is deeply anchored from faith,
that God Almighty will never forsake us.
B (solo) : I believe that Filipinos, divided by varied doctrines and cultures, are capable to be on top of any
situation, if united
All : Together, we can face any challenge ahead of us.
B : We may stumble and fall
All : But we will bounce back, arms stronger with vision and faith, that after darkness, after pains and
sufferings, the Filipino survives, the Filipino is resilient.
 Peace Not War GET OUT OF MY LIFE!!!
by Patricia Lithuanian I was there, I was there, I was there
Boom! blood, flesh, struggle and fear and shout!
surrounding in the atmosphere
if one is sulky, one is scorned Listen, and you will hear the cry of the trouble of
if one is not a noble, one is a peasant our faith
there are crimes, abuses, hates and injustices so now, eliminate all your senses!
and the only thing that rules the earth is immorality Talk, and you will not be heard
for your rights are separate from the other turfs
Sshhh… silence, Behold
for the end may come For the riches of life were broken
voices are not made to speak the truth, because, we are dreamers
but to shout and scream! STOP! This are all hatred, hatred and hatred!
eyes are not made to see the reality,
but to hide the facts and cry, and weep You who did cause for the voices of the youth
and the hands are not made to reach out Youth who have the right to be hold
but to fight instead! for the unity and progress of the future year
This is not yet over It’s time to wake up!
this is chaos It’s time to do something!
this is what we call the clock is ticking…
WAR!!! and then,

It was a day of in famine 10 selfishness

last September 11, 2001 9 arrogance
when an airplane crashed it’s way into human life! 8 hate
The United States of America’s 7 injustice
World Trade Center 6 pride
Shattered! Boom! 5 war
tranquility and harmony was lost 4 kindness
roaming outsider, Boom! 3 respect
2 love
Many lives were gone in just a blink of an eye and at last
mothers died, fathers vanished and brothers 1 peace
suffered
leaving no more but distress It is peace and wisdom we want
and pieces of mind and soul like a steel pad that serves us on it’s path
Guess what the cause is? May that be all?
TERRORISM!!! we need to show the true virtue of peace, love
brought by the power of this indespicable greed soldiers may march towards the war
guns may kill millions of men
This is the beginning of the 3rd world war, or the homes may be shuttered
featured and lives may be called in danger
prophecy of Nostradamus but one thing is for sure
God forbid though in this world this is not the end
where every one is divided by walls there is hope
that separates east and west through religion We, the youth lays here and wakes up in the
and all living creatures that exists advent of war processes
came from only one creator save our future join hands together
for what we want is
TERRORISM!! Peace Not War.
Bloodshed, showering of bullets,
bombs and missiles
biochemical weapons, and death!

The story of why many human beings

who were victimized and sought for moral
righteousness
Terrorism!
Start walking on ice where beings die,
in a shivering cold and lose their lives
 GROW AND BE LIKE THE MOLAVE
Manuel L. Quezon

National strength can only be built on character. A nation is nothing more or less than its citizenry, it is the
people that make up the nation, therefore, I cannot be strong than its component parts. Their weakness is its
failing, their strength is of men and women healthy in mind and body; courteous, brave, industrious, self-
reliant, purposeful in thought as well as in action, imbued with sound patriotism and a profound sense of
righteousness, with high social ideals and strong moral fiber and I will show you a nation that will not be
submerged. A nation that will emerge victorious from the trials and bitter strife of a distracted world. A nation
that will forever, sharing the common task of advancing the welfare and promoting the happiness of mankind.

The upward climb of mankind has been universal. In the human landscape, there are peaks and valleys and
deep chasms. Generally there is need of patent social upheaval volcanic in proportions to raise the lower
levels to great heights.

The battle for existence and survival of the fittest is ever the rule of life in nature and among men.

Our task – it is heroic task to awaken and apply these faculties so that our people should become what of right
they should be; morally virile, hardworking, refined, enterprising, persevering, public-spirited.

I want our people to grow and be like the molave, strong and resilient, rising in the hillside, unafraid of the
raging flood, the lightning or the storm, confident of its own strength. If we have the will to survive and the will
to achieve social efficiency, we cannot deny this task of spiritual revival. Let us begin now to mold the typical
Filipino.

We are Oriental. Orientals are known for their placidity and passivity. In the world of humanity we are looked
upon as a quiet and smooth lake from which the adventurous and enterprising may reap enjoyment and gain. I
refuse to allow the Filipinos to be so regarded.

We shall be a flowing stream, a rippling brook, a deep and roaring torrent, full of life, of hope, of faith, and of
strength. Through self-discipline we shall harness all our energies so that our power, spreading over the
length and breadth of this land will develop its resources, advance its culture, secure social justice, give
puissance to the nation and insure happiness and contentment for all the people under the aegis of liberty and
peace.

Land of Bondage, Land of the Free

by Raul Manglapus
No wonder then,/ that the tao,/ being a slave,/ has acquired the habits of a slave.// No wonder that after three
centuries in chains,/ without freedom,/ without hope,/ he should lose the erect and fearless posture of the
freeman/ and become the bent, misshapen,/ indolent/ vicious,/ pitiful thing that he is!// Who dares accuse him,/
who dares rise up in judgment against this man,/ reduced to this subhuman level by three centuries of
oppression?// The tao does not come here tonight to be judged-// but to judge!// Hear then/ his accusation and
his sentence.//
I indict the Spanish encomendero// for inventing taxes impossible to bear:// I indict the usurer for saddling me
with debts impossible to pay.//

I indict the irresponsible radical leaders/ who undermine with insidious eloquence/ the confidence of my kind in
our government.//

You accuse me of not supporting my family.// Free me from bondage/ and I shall prove you false.//

You accuse me of ignorance.// But I am ignorant because my master finds it profitable to keep me ignorant.//
Free me from bondage / and I shall prove you false.//

You accuse me of indolence.// But I am indolent/ not because I have no will,./ but because I have no hope.//
Why should I labor/ if all the fruits of my labor/ go to pay an unpayable debt?// Free me from bondage/ and I
shall prove you false.//

Give me land.// Land to own.// Land ‘unbeholden to any tyrant.// Land that will be free.// Give me land for I am
starving.// Give me land that my children may not die.// Sell it to me,/ sell it to me at a fair price./ as one
freeman sells to another/ and not as a usurer sells to a slave./// I am poor, / but I will pay it!// I will work,/ work/
until I fall from weariness for my privileges,/ for my inalienable right to be free.//

BUT IF YOU WILL NOT GRANT ME THIS… // If you will not grant me this last request,/ this ultimate
demand,// then build a wall around your home//… build it // place a sentry on every parapet!… for I who have
been silent these three hundred years/ will come in the night when you are feasting,/ with my cry, and my bolo
at your door.// And may God/ have mercy on your soul.

I Am a Filipino
Carlos P. Romulo
I am a Filipino–inheritor of a glorious past, hostage to the uncertain future. As such I must prove equal to a
two-fold task–the task of meeting my responsibility to the past, and the task of performing my obligation to the
future.
I sprung from a hardy race, child many generations removed of ancient Malayan pioneers. Across the
centuries the memory comes rushing back to me: of brown-skinned men putting out to sea in ships that were
as frail as their hearts were stout. Over the sea I see them come, borne upon the billowing wave and the
whistling wind, carried upon the mighty swell of hope–hope in the free abundance of new land that was to be
their home and their children’s forever.

This is the land they sought and found. Every inch of shore that their eyes first set upon, every hill and
mountain that beckoned to them with a green-and-purple invitation, every mile of rolling plain that their view
encompassed, every river and lake that promised a plentiful living and the fruitfulness of commerce, is a
hallowed spot to me.

By the strength of their hearts and hands, by every right of law, human and divine, this land and all the
appurtenances thereof–the black and fertile soil, the seas and lakes and rivers teeming with fish, the forests
with their inexhaustible wealth in wild life and timber, the mountains with their bowels swollen with minerals–
the whole of this rich and happy land has been, for centuries without number, the land of my fathers. This land
I received in trust from them and in trust will pass it to my children, and so on until the world is no more.

I am a Filipino. In my blood runs the immortal seed of heroes–seed that flowered down the centuries in deeds
of courage and defiance. In my veins yet pulses the same hot blood that sent Lapulapu to battle against the
first invader of this land, that nerved Lakandula in the combat against the alien foe, that drove Diego Silang
and Dagohoy into rebellion against the foreign oppressor.

That seed is immortal. It is the self-same seed that flowered in the heart of Jose Rizal that morning in
Bagumbayan when a volley of shots put an end to all that was mortal of him and made his spirit deathless
forever, the same that flowered in the hearts of Bonifacio in Balintawak, of Gergorio del Pilar at Tirad Pass, of
Antonio Luna at Calumpit; that bloomed in flowers of frustration in the sad heart of Emilio Aguinaldo at
Palanan, and yet burst fourth royally again in the proud heart of Manuel L. Quezon when he stood at last on
the threshold of ancient Malacañan Palace, in the symbolic act of possession and racial vindication.

The seed I bear within me is an immortal seed. It is the mark of my manhood, the symbol of dignity as a
human being. Like the seeds that were once buried in the tomb of Tutankhamen many thousand years ago, it
shall grow and flower and bear fruit again. It is the insignia of my race, and my generation is but a stage in the
unending search of my people for freedom and happiness.

I am a Filipino, child of the marriage of the East and the West. The East, with its languor and mysticism, its
passivity and endurance, was my mother, and my sire was the West that came thundering across the seas
with the Cross and Sword and the Machine. I am of the East, an eager participant in its spirit, and in its
struggles for liberation from the imperialist yoke. But I also know that the East must awake from its centuried
sleep, shake off the lethargy that has bound his limbs, and start moving where destiny awaits.

For I, too, am of the West, and the vigorous peoples of the West have destroyed forever the peace and quiet
that once were ours. I can no longer live, a being apart from those whose world now trembles to the roar of
bomb and cannon-shot. I cannot say of a matter of universal life-and-death, of freedom and slavery for all
mankind, that it concerns me not. For no man and no nation is an island, but a part of the main, there is no
longer any East and West–only individuals and nations making those momentous choices which are the
hinges upon which history resolves.

At the vanguard of progress in this part of the world I stand–a forlorn figure in the eyes of some, but not one
defeated and lost. For, through the thick, interlacing branches of habit and custom above me, I have seen the
light of the sun, and I know that it is good. I have seen the light of justice and equality and freedom, my heart
has been lifted by the vision of democracy, and I shall not rest until my land and my people shall have been
blessed by these, beyond the power of any man or nation to subvert or destroy.

I am a Filipino, and this is my inheritance. What pledge shall I give that I may prove worthy of my inheritance?
I shall give the pledge that has come ringing down the corridors of the centuries, and it shall be compounded
of the joyous cries of my Malayan forebears when first they saw the contours of this land loom before their
eyes, of the battle cries that have resounded in every field of combat from Mactan to Tirad Pass, of the voices
of my people when they sing:

Land of the morning,

Child of the sun returning–

Ne’er shall invaders

Trample thy sacred shore.
Out of the lush green of these seven thousand isles, out of the heartstrings of sixteen million people all
vibrating to one song, I shall weave the mighty fabric of my pledge. Out of the songs of the farmers at sunrise
when they go to labor in the fields, out of the sweat of the hard-bitten pioneers in Mal-lig and Koronadal, out of
the silent endurance of stevedores at the piers and the ominous grumbling of peasants in Pampanga, out of
the first cries of babies newly born and the lullabies that mothers sing, out of the crashing of gears and the
whine of turbines in the factories, out of the crunch of plough-shares upturning the earth, out of the limitless
patience of teachers in the classrooms and doctors in the clinics, out of the tramp of soldiers marching, I shall
make the pattern of my pledge:

“I am a Filipino born to freedom, and I shall not rest until freedom shall have been added unto my
inheritance—for myself and my children and my children’s children—forever.”

EARTHKEEPER
by: Gary Granada

You were meant to be free, as wild as the sea

Just like an eagle soaring high
Nesting on the trees that touch the sky
You have the right to this place like all human race.

You are no less than a child of the Maker

You're an earthkeeper of the land of your birth.
 You were created to be a creator.
You're the life bearer of Mother Earth.

You're holding the key between you and me.

Life is the choice we need to make.
Peace is the way we must take
Where there is waiting and pain

To heal and sustain.

You were so called to be a namegiver.
You're a defender of the nameless and the weak.
You were so pieced to become a peacemaker.
To make or unmake hangs on you.

And for the sake of the futures

Of our sons and daughters,
In the name of all creatures,
Give survival a chance.

You are no less than the child of the Maker.

You're an earthkeeper of the land of your birth.
You were created to be a creator.
You're the life bearer of Mother Earth.

You're the defender of the nameless and the weak.

You were so pieced to become a peacemaker.
To make or unmake,
To do or undo hangs on you.

If I Were A Voice
by Charles Mackay
If I were a voice, a persuasive voice,
That could travel the wide world through,
I would fly on the beams of the morning light,
And speak to men with a gentle might,
And tell them to be true.
I'd fly, I'd fly, o'er land and sea,
Wherever a human heart might be,
Telling a tale, or singing a song,
In praise of the right - in blame of the wrong.

II.
If I were a voice, a consoling voice,
I'd fly on the wings of air,
The homes of Sorrow and Guilt I'd seek,
And calm and truthful words I'd speak
To save them from Despair.
I'd fly, I'd fly, o'er the crowded town,
And drop, like the happy sun-light, down
Into the hearts of suffering men,
And teach them to rejoice again.

III.

If I were a voice, a convincing voice,

I'd travel with the wind,
And whenever I saw the nations torn
By warfare, jealousy, or scorn,
If I were a voice, a convincing voice,
I 'd travel with the wind,
And whenever I saw the nations torn
By warfare, jealousy, or scorn,
Or hatred of their kind,
I'd fly, I'd fly, on the thunder-crash,
And into their blinded bosoms flash;
And, all their evil thoughts subdued,
I'd teach them Christian Brotherhood.

IV.

If I were a voice, a pervading voice,

I'd seek the kings of Earth;
I'd find them alone on their beds at night
And whisper words that should guide them right
Lessons of priceless worth;
I'd fly more swift than the swiftest bird,
And tell them things they never heard
Truths which the ages for aye repeat
Unknown to the statesmen at their feet.

V.

If I were a voice, an immortal voice,

I'd speak in the people's ear;
And whenever they shouted 'Liberty,'
Without deserving to be free,
I'd make their error clear.
I'd fly, I'd fly, on the wings of day,
Rebuking wrong on my world-wide way,
And making all the Earth rejoice-
If I were a voice-an immortal voice.
To the Philippine Youth
by Jose Rizal

Hold high the brow serene,

O youth, where now you stand;
Let the bright sheen
Of your grace be seen,
Fair hope of my fatherland!
Come now, thou genius grand,
And bring down inspiration;
With thy mighty hand,
Swifter than the wind's violation,
Raise the eager mind to higher station.

Come down with pleasing light

Of art and science to the fight,
O youth, and there untie
The chains that heavy lie,
Your spirit free to blight.
See how in flaming zone
Amid the shadows thrown,
The Spaniard'a holy hand
A crown's resplendent band
Proffers to this Indian land.

Thou, who now wouldst rise

On wings of rich emprise,
Seeking from Olympian skies
Songs of sweetest strain,
Softer than ambrosial rain;
Thou, whose voice divine
Rivals Philomel's refrain
And with varied line
Through the night benign
Frees mortality from pain;

Thou, who by sharp strife

Wakest thy mind to life ;
And the memory bright
Of thy genius' light
Makest immortal in its strength ;

And thou, in accents clear

Of Phoebus, to Apelles dear ;
Or by the brush's magic art
Takest from nature's store a part,
To fig it on the simple canvas' length ;

Go forth, and then the sacred fire

Of thy genius to the laurel may aspire ;
To spread around the fame,
And in victory acclaim,
Through wider spheres the human name.

Day, O happy day,

Fair Filipinas, for thy land!
So bless the Power to-day
That places in thy way
This favor and this fortune grand !

Land of Bondage, Land of the Free

 by Raul Manglapus
No wonder then,/ that the tao,/ being a slave,/ has acquired the habits of a slave.//
No wonder that after three centuries in chains,/ without freedom,/ without hope,/ he should lose the erect and
fearless posture of the freeman/ and become the bent, misshapen,/ indolent/ vicious,/ pitiful thing that he is!// Who
dares accuse him,/ who dares rise up in judgment against this man,/ reduced to this subhuman level by three
centuries of oppression?//
The tao does not come here tonight to be judged-// but to judge!//
Hear then/ his accusation and his sentence.//
I indict the Spanish encomendero// for inventing taxes impossible to bear://
I indict the usurer for saddling me with debts impossible to pay.//
I indict the irresponsible radical leaders/ who undermine with insidious eloquence/ the confidence of my kind in our
government.//
You accuse me of not supporting my family.//
Free me from bondage/ and I shall prove you false.//
You accuse me of ignorance.//
But I am ignorant because my master finds it profitable to keep me ignorant.//
Free me from bondage / and I shall prove you false.//
You accuse me of indolence.// But I am indolent/ not because I have no will,./ but because I have no hope.// Why
should I labor/ if all the fruits of my labor/ go to pay an unpayable debt?//
Free me from bondage/ and I shall prove you false.//
Give me land.// Land to own.//
Land ‘unbeholden to any tyrant.//
Land that will be free.//
Give me land for I am starving.//
Give me land that my children may not die.//
Sell it to me,/ sell it to me at a fair price./ as one freeman sells to another/ and not as a usurer sells to a slave.///
I am poor, / but I will pay it!// I will work,/ work/ until I fall from weariness for my privileges,/ for my inalienable right
to be free.//
BUT IF YOU WILL NOT GRANT ME THIS… // If you will not grant me this last request,/ this ultimate demand,//
then build a wall around your home//… build it // place a sentry on every parapet!… for I who have been silent
these three hundred years/ will come in the night when you are feasting,/ with my cry, and my bolo at your door.//
And may God/ have mercy on your soul.

Land of Bondage, Land of the Free

by Raul Manglapus
No wonder then,/ that the tao,/ being a slave,/ has acquired the habits of a slave.//
No wonder that after three centuries in chains,/ without freedom,/ without hope,/ he should lose the erect and
fearless posture of the freeman/ and become the bent, misshapen,/ indolent/ vicious,/ pitiful thing that he is!// Who
dares accuse him,/ who dares rise up in judgment against this man,/ reduced to this subhuman level by three
centuries of oppression?//
The tao does not come here tonight to be judged-// but to judge!//
Hear then/ his accusation and his sentence.//
I indict the Spanish encomendero// for inventing taxes impossible to bear://
I indict the usurer for saddling me with debts impossible to pay.//
I indict the irresponsible radical leaders/ who undermine with insidious eloquence/ the confidence of my kind in our
government.//
You accuse me of not supporting my family.//
Free me from bondage/ and I shall prove you false.//
You accuse me of ignorance.//
But I am ignorant because my master finds it profitable to keep me ignorant.//
Free me from bondage / and I shall prove you false.//
You accuse me of indolence.// But I am indolent/ not because I have no will,./ but because I have no hope.// Why
should I labor/ if all the fruits of my labor/ go to pay an unpayable debt?//
Free me from bondage/ and I shall prove you false.//
Give me land.// Land to own.//
Land ‘unbeholden to any tyrant.//
Land that will be free.//
Give me land for I am starving.//
Give me land that my children may not die.//
Sell it to me,/ sell it to me at a fair price./ as one freeman sells to another/ and not as a usurer sells to a slave.///
I am poor, / but I will pay it!// I will work,/ work/ until I fall from weariness for my privileges,/ for my inalienable right
to be free.//
BUT IF YOU WILL NOT GRANT ME THIS… // If you will not grant me this last request,/ this ultimate demand,//
then build a wall around your home//… build it // place a sentry on every parapet!… for I who have been silent
these three hundred years/ will come in the night when you are feasting,/ with my cry, and my bolo at your door.//
And may God/ have mercy on your soul.
Land of Bondage, Land of the Free
 by Raul Manglapus
No wonder then,/ that the tao,/ being a slave,/ has acquired the habits of a slave.//
No wonder that after three centuries in chains,/ without freedom,/ without hope,/ he should
lose the erect and fearless posture of the freeman/ and become the bent, misshapen,/
indolent/ vicious,/ pitiful thing that he is!// Who dares accuse him,/ who dares rise up in
judgment against this man,/ reduced to this subhuman level by three centuries of
oppression?//
The tao does not come here tonight to be judged-// but to judge!//
Hear then/ his accusation and his sentence.//
I indict the Spanish encomendero// for inventing taxes impossible to bear://
I indict the usurer for saddling me with debts impossible to pay.//
I indict the irresponsible radical leaders/ who undermine with insidious eloquence/ the
confidence of my kind in our government.//
You accuse me of not supporting my family.//
Free me from bondage/ and I shall prove you false.//
You accuse me of ignorance.//
But I am ignorant because my master finds it profitable to keep me ignorant.//
Free me from bondage / and I shall prove you false.//
You accuse me of indolence.// But I am indolent/ not because I have no will,./ but because I
have no hope.// Why should I labor/ if all the fruits of my labor/ go to pay an unpayable debt?//
Free me from bondage/ and I shall prove you false.//
Give me land.// Land to own.//
Land ‘unbeholden to any tyrant.//
Land that will be free.//
Give me land for I am starving.//
Give me land that my children may not die.//
Sell it to me,/ sell it to me at a fair price./ as one freeman sells to another/ and not as a usurer
sells to a slave.///
I am poor, / but I will pay it!// I will work,/ work/ until I fall from weariness for my privileges,/ for
my inalienable right to be free.//
BUT IF YOU WILL NOT GRANT ME THIS… // If you will not grant me this last request,/ this
ultimate demand,// then build a wall around your home//… build it // place a sentry on every
parapet!… for I who have been silent these three hundred years/ will come in the night when
you are feasting,/ with my cry, and my bolo at your door.//
And may God/ have mercy on your soul.