Literature Under the Republic (1946-1985)

History is not the story of heroes entirely. It is often the story of cruelty and injustice
and shortsightedness. There are monsters, there is evil, and there is betrayal. That’s why
people should read Shakespeare and Dickens as well as history—they will find the best,
the worst, the height of noble attainment, and the depths of depravity.
- David McCullough

The Japanese occupation leaves the Philippine economy in ruins and it seemed
that massive foreign aid could rebuild it. The life of the Filipinos hung in the balance
because of hunger insecurity and terror. Many Filipinos resorted to collaborating with
the Japanese for reasons such as politics, survival, and opportunity. After the Pacific
War ended, collaborators were given amnesty by President Manual Roxas. The amnesty
was a result of the US colonialism’s decision to hush up the collaboration.

This in turn put the Filipino ruling elite's credibility at stake because of
ambiguities and irregularities that were not resolved. The US colonialist also linked the
issue of collaboration not as a political will but as a means of survival (expediency). If a
rigid trial was done to the detractors, many of the Filipino ruling elite would lose their
credibility and this was not favorable to the US colonizers because at that time the elites
were the intermediary between the American colonizers and the Filipinos. The elites had
a lot of influence on the masses, and the US wanted to tap their services and use them as
leverage.

To secure the new republics alliance with the US after its independence was
granted a series of treaties and agreements were signed, and these strengthened the ties
between the two countries. The Bell Trade Act imposed free trade which enforced
imports from the US for 28 years and parity rights allowing US citizens to have equal
rights to access to the country’s natural resources. The Philippine Rehabilitation Act
together with the Bell Trade Act allowed the US to use the Philippines for their military
bases and control of the Philippine military.
 Amado Vera Hernandez was born in Hagonoy, Bulacan but grew up in
Tondo, Manila, where he studied at the Manila High School and at the American
Correspondence School. While being a reporter, columnist, and editor of several
newspapers and magazines including Watawat, Mabuhay, Pilipino, Makabayan, and
Sampaguita, he also honed his poetic craft. He received the Republic Cultural Heritage
Award, a number of Palancas, and an award from the National Press Club for his
journalistic achievements. Ka Amado died on 24 March 1970 in the wake of the First
Quarter Storm ,whose leaders and activists recited his words.
He left a legacy that includes Isang Dipang Langit (An Arm-Stretch of Sky), Kung
Tuyo na ang Luha Mo, Aking Bayan (When Your Tears Have Dried, My Country),
Panata sa Kalayaan (Pledge to Freedom), and the novel Luha ng Buwaya (Crocodile
Tears). He was posthumously honored as our National Artist for Literature in 1973.
Together with poet Jose Garcia Villa, Amado V. Hernandez was the first to receive the
title in literature.

ISANG DIPANG LANGIT

Amado V. Hernandez

Ako'y ipiniit ng linsil na puno

hangad palibhasang diwa ko'y piitin,
katawang marupok, aniya'y pagsuko,
damdami'y supil na't mithiin ay supil.

Ikinulong ako sa kutang malupit:

bato, bakal, punlo, balasik ng bantay;
lubos na tiwalag sa buong daigdig
at inaring kahit buhay man ay patay.

Sa munting dungawan, tanging abot-malas

 ay sandipang langit na puno ng luha,
maramot na birang ng pusong may sugat
watawat ng aking pagkapariwara.

Sintalim ng kidlat ang mata ng tanod,

sa pintong may susi't walang makalapit;
sigaw ng bilanggo sa katabing moog,
anaki'y atungal ng hayop sa yungib.

Ang maghapo'y tila isang tanikala

na kala-kaladkad ng paang madugo
ang buong magdamag ay kulambong luksa
ng kabaong waring lungga ng bilanggo.

Kung minsa'y magdaan ang payak na yabag,

kawil ng kadena ang kumakalanding;
sa maputlang araw saglit ibibilad,
sanlibong aninong iniluwa ng dilim.

Kung minsan, ang gabi'y biglang magulantang

sa hudyat - may takas! - at asod ng punlo;
kung minsa'y tumangis ang lumang batingaw,
sa bitayang moog, may naghihingalo.

At ito ang tanging daigdig ko ngayon –

bilangguang mandi'y libingan ng buhay;
sampu, dalawampu, at lahat ng taon
ng buong buhay ko'y dito mapipigtal.

Nguni't yaring diwa'y walang takot-hirap

at batis pa rin itong aking puso:
piita'y bahagi ng pakikilamas,
 mapiit ay tanda ng di pagsuko.

Ang tao't Bathala ay di natutulog

at di habang araw ang api ay api,
tanang pinili ay may pagtutuos
habang may Bastilya’y may bayang gaganti.

At bukas, diyan din, aking matatanaw

sa sandipang langit na wala nang luha,
sisikat ang gintong araw ng tagumpay…
layang sasalubong ako sa paglaya!
 Jose Maria Flores Lacaba popularly known as Pete Lacaba, is a Filipino film
writer, editor, poet, screenwriter, journalist, and translator. Born in Cagayan de Oro in
1945 to Jose Monreal Lacaba of Loon, Bohol, and Fe Flores from Pateros, Rizal, he is
one of the leading figures in Philippine literature today. He is well-known in various
fields, including creative writing, journalism, editing, and scriptwriting.
In 1970. During Martial Law, Lacaba fought President Ferdinand Marcos and his
US-backed military dictatorship. Under the nom de plume Rubne Cuevas, Lacaba
published his poem “Prometheus Unbound” at Focus, a magazine that had allied itself
with the Marcos regime.

ANG DAPAT PANIWALAAN

Jose F. Lacaba

Siya'y pinalaki ng lolang palakuwento,

kaya sa pagtulog ay lagging kasiping
ang kapre, tikbalang multo at maligno,
sanlibo't isang panggabing pangitain

Itinuro sa kanya ng butihing lola

(kasabay ng katon) ang lahat ng dasal,
antanda sa Latin, senyas at pangontra
sa kapangyarihan ng aswang at kulam.

Subalit pagpasok sa unibersidad,

nang ang kanyang lola'y matagal nang patay,
natutuhan din niya kung ano ang dapat
paniwalaang ng isang edukado:
na ang dapat niyang katakutan ay tao,
 at sa tao'y hindi dasal ang panlaban.

Lamberto E. Antonio was born in Manila in 1946. Former editor of the

University of the East’s newspaper Dawn. His poetry has been described as “a savage
blow against regular versification.” He is also an essayist, translator, and short-story
writer. Wrote Insiang (1978), the very first Filipino movie shown at the Cannes Film
Festival. This great Filipino poet has won the Palanca Award at least ten times. He wrote
“Sa Gabi ng Isang Piyon” (In the Night of a Peon) in 1946, a Tagalog poem that depicts
the life of a Filipino laborer.

SA GABI NG ISANG PIYON

Lamberto E. Antonio

Paano ka makakatulog?
Iniwan man ng mga palad mo ang pala,
Martilyo, tubo't kawad at iba pang kasangkapan,
Alas-singko'y hindi naging hudyat upang
Umibis ang graba't semento sa iyong hininga.
Sa karimlan mo nga lamang maaaring ihabilin
Ang kirot at silakbo ng iyong himaymay:
Mga lintos, galos, hiwa ng daliri braso't utak
Kapag binabanig na ang kapirasong playwud,
Mga kusot o supot-semento sa ulilang
Sulok ng gusaling nakatirik.

Binabalisa ka ng paggawa -
(Hindi ka maidlip kahit sagad-buto ang pagod mo)
Dugo't pawis pang lalangkap
Sa buhangin at sementong hinahalo na kalamnang
Itatapal mo sa bakal na mga tadyang:
 Kalansay na nabubuong dambuhala mula
Sa pagdurugo mo bawat saglit; kapalit
Ang kitang di-maipantawid-gutom ng pamilya,
Pag-asam sa bagong kontrata at dalanging paos.
Paano ka matutulog kung sa bawat paghiga mo'y
Unti-unting nilalagom ng bubungang sakdal-tayog
Ang mga bituin?
Maaari ka nga lamang
Mag-usisa sa dilim kung bakit di umiibis
Ang graba't 'semento sa iyong hininga...
Kung nabubuo sa guniguni mo maya't maya
Na ikaw ay mistulang bahagi ng iskapold
Na kinabukasa'y babaklasin mo rin.
 Emmanuel Torres was born on April 29, 1932. He graduated from the Ateneo
de Manila in 1954. As a student, he contributed poems and essays to the Ateneo
Quarterly. It was Torres who renamed the journal Heights when the campus moved
from Padre Faura to Loyola Heights, and he was the co-editor of its first issue in October
1952. Heights is still the student literary journal of the university. Upon graduating,
Torres received the Mulry Award in Literary Excellence.
 
In 1957 he obtained a master’s at Iowa State University and attended the poetry
workshops of Paul Engle. In 1958, he began teaching at the Ateneo de Manila, and in
1960 he became the first curator of the Ateneo Art Gallery, remaining so until 2001. He
founded the Arts Club for students and used the Art Gallery as its base. He won four
prizes at the Carlos Palanca Memorial Awards, including a first for “Angels and
Fugitives” in 1966. He received the Gawad Pambansang Alagad ni Balagtas from the
Unyon ng mga Manunulat sa Pilipinas in 1992.

This poem talks about a time during the Marcos regime when the pope came for a
visit. The poem reflects the more realistic angle of the story, a mockery of the Church, in
some ways, by alluding to doctrines.

ANOTHER INVITATION TO THE POPE TO VISIT TONDO

Emmanuel Torres

Next time your Holiness slums through our lives,

we will try to make our poverty exemplary.
The best is a typhoon month. It never fails
To find us, like charity, knocking on
all sides of the rough arrangements we thrive in.
Mud shall be plenty for the feet of the pious.
 We will show you how we pull things together
from nowhere, life after life,
prosper with children, whom you love. To be sure,
we shall have more for you to love.

We will show you where the sun leaks on

our sleep,
on the dailiness of piece meals and wages
with their habit of slipping away
from fists that have holes for pockets.

We will show you our latest child with a sore

that never sleeps. When he cries,
the dogs of the afternoon bark without stopping,
and evening darkens early on the mats.

Stay for supper of turnips on our table

since 1946 swollen with the same hard tears.
The buntings over our one and only window
shall welcome a short breeze.

And lead prayers for the family that starves

and stays together. If we wear rosaries round
our necks
it is not because they never bruise our fingers,
(Pardon if we doze on a dream of Amen.)

But remember to remember to reward us

with something . . . more lush, greener than all
the lawns of memorial parks singing together.
Our eyes shall bless the liveliness of dollars.
Shed no tears, please, for the brown multitudes
who thicken on chance and feast on leftovers
as the burning garbage smuts the sky of Manila
pile after pile after pile.

Fear not. Now there are only surreal assassins

about who dream of your death in the shape
of a flowering kris.
 Alberto S. Florentino was born in Nueva Ecija, Philippines on July 28, 1931,
the second of seven children of Alberto San Buenaventura Florentino and Maria Rivera
Sanqueza. His father was a teacher who always organized drama and choral groups. The
young Alberto used to type multiple copies of his father’s plays, an activity that helped
usher Bert into playwriting. Later, as a 23-year-old accounting student at the University
of the East, Bert wrote the one-act play, The World Is an Apple, which won the Carlos
Palanca Award. He dropped out of accounting and went on to write plays, four more of
which won Palanca Awards: The Cadaver; The Dancers; Cavort with Angels; and Oli
Impan.

THE WORLD IS AN APPLE

Alberto S. Florentino

Scene:
An improvised home behind a portion of the Intramuros walls. Two wooden boxes flank
the doorway. At left is an acacia tree with a wooden bench under it.)

MARIO enters from the street at left. He is in his late twenties, shabbily dressed and
with hair that seems to have been uncut for weeks. He puts his lunch bag on the bench,
sits down, removes his shoes and puts them beside his lunch bag.

GLORIA: (Calls from inside) Mario! Is that you, Mario?

MARIO: Yes…

GLORIA: (A small woman about Mario’s age, with long hair, comes out wiping her
hands on her dress.) I’m glad you’re home early.

MARIO: How is Tita?

(Without waiting for an answer, he enters the dwelling).
GLORIA: (Crosses to the bench)-
Don’t wake her up, Mario. She’s tired. She cried the whole day.

MARIO: (reappears and crosses to the bench and sits on one end) Has she been eating
well?

GLORIA: She wouldn’t eat even a mouthful of lugao. But I’ll buy her some biscuits.
Maybe she’ll eat them. (She slips her fingers into his breast pocket) I’ll take some of the
Money!

MARIO: (Rises, annoyed)

Gloria! Can’t you wait a minute?

GLORIA:(Taken aback)-
Hey, what’s the matter? Why are you suddenly so touchy?

MARIO: Who wouldn’t be? I’m talking to you about the child and you bother me by
ransacking my pockets I wish you’d think more of our daughter.

GLORIA: (Crosses at the Center)

My God! Wasn’t I thinking of her? Why do you think I need some money? To buy me a
pretty dress? Or see a movie?

MARIO: Tone down your voice. You’ll wake the child up.

GLORIA: (Low but intense) –

All I want is a little money to buy her something to eat!!She hasn’t eaten anything all
day! That was why I was “bothering” you!

MARIO: (Repentant)- I’m sorry, Gloria… (Grips her arm)

GLORIA: It’s all right, Mario. Now, may I have some of the money?

MARIO: (Turns to her)-Money? I … don’t have any… not now.

GLORIA: Today is payday, Mario.

MARIO: Yes … but…

GLORIA: But what? Where’s your pay for the week?

MARIO: I don’t … have it.

GLORIA : What? I waited for you the whole day and you tell me..

MARIO:(Angry)- that I have nothing! Nothing! What do you want me to do- steal?

GLORIA: I’m not asking you to do a thing like that! All I want to know is what you did
with your money.

MARIO: (Sits on the bench)-Nothing is left of it.

GLORIA: Nothing? What happened?

MARIO: Oh, I had a few drinks with my friends. Before I knew it, I had spent every
centavo of it.

GLORIA: (Eyeing him intently)-Mario, do you think you can make a fool of me? Haven’t
I seen you drunk before: crawling home like a wounded snake and reeking of alcohol
like a hospital? You don’t smell or look drunk.

MARIO: All right, so I didn’t go drinking.

GLORIA: But your pay- what happened to it?

MARIO: It’s better if you don’t know, Gloria.

GLORIA: Look, Mario I’m your wife. I have the right to half of everything you get. If I
can’t have my share, I have the right to know at least where it went!

MARIO: All right.(Rises.) I spent it all on another woman.

GLORIA: Another woman? I don’t believe it. I know you wouldn’t do such thing.

MARIO: I didn’t know you had so much faith in me.

GLORIA: No, Mario, what I mean is- you wouldn’t spend all your money when you
know your daughter may need some of it. You love her too much to do that.
(Mario sits down and buries his head in his hands. Gloria crosses to him and lays a hand
on his shoulder.)

GLORIA: What’s wrong, Mario?

MARIO: (Turns his face away)- Nothing, Gloria, nothing.

GLORIA: (Sits beside him) I know something is wrong, Mario. I can feel it. Tell me what
it is.

MARIO: (Stares at the ground) – Gloria, I’ve lost my job.

GLORIA: (Rises, shocked) Oh, No!

MARIO: (Looks up at her) It’s true, Gloria

GLORIA: What about your pay for the whole week?

MARIO: I lost my job a week ago.

GLORIA: And you never even told me!

MARIO: I thought I could get another, without making you worry.

GLORIA: Do you think you can get another in five months? It took you that long to get
the last one.

MARIO: It won’t take me as long to get another.

GLORIA: But how did you lose it? Mario! Have your sinful fingers brought you trouble
again?

MARIO: Now, now, Gloria! Don’t try to accuse me, as they did!

GLORIA: What did they accuse you of?

MARIO: Just what you meant to say, Pilfering, they call it.

GLORIA: What else would you call it? (Pause.)What , according to them, did you steal?

MARIO: (Low) It was nothing much, really nothing at all.

GLORIA: What was it?

MARIO: It was an apple.

GLORIA: An apple! You mean-

MARIO: An apple! Don’t you know what an apple is?

GLORIA: You mean, you took one apple.

MARIO: Yes, and they kicked me out for it: for taking one, single apple. Not a dozen, not
a crate.

GLORIA: That’s what you get —

MARIO: (Sits down ) -Could I have guessed they would do that for one apple? When
there were millions of them?(Pause.) We were hauling them to the warehouse. I saw one
roll out of a broken crate. It was that big. Suddenly, I found myself putting it in my lunch
bag.

GLORIA- That’s the trouble with you; when you think of your own stomach, you think of
nothing else!

MARIO: (Rise)- I was not thinking of myself!

GLORIA: Whom were you thinking of- me? Did I ever ask for apples?

MARIO: Yes, she did. (Pause.) Do you remember that day I took her out for a walk? On
our way home we passed a grocery store that sold “delicious” apples at seventy centavos
each. She wanted me to buy one for her, but I did not have seventy centavos. What I did
was buy her one of those small green apples they sell on the sidewalk, but she just threw
it away, saying it was not a real apple. Then she cried. (Pause.) So… when I saw this
apple roll out of the broken crate, I thought that Tita would love to have it.

GLORIA: You should have tried to bring home pan-de-sal, or rice, or milk- and not
those “delicious” apples. We’re not rich. We can live without apples!

MARIO: Why? Did God create apple trees to bear fruit for rich alone? Didn’t He create
the whole world for everyone? That’s why I tried to bring the apple home for Tita. When
we brought her into this world, we sort of promised her everything she had a right to
have in life.

GLORIA : So, for a measly apple, you lost a job .

MARIO: I wouldn’t mind losing a thousand jobs for an apple for my daughter!

GLORIA: Where was this apple? Did you bring it home to Tita? (Crosses to the bench to
get the lunch bag)

MARIO: No, they kept it-as evidence. (Sits down.)

GLORIA: See? You lost your job trying to filch an apple and you even lost the apple for
which you lost your job. (Gloria puts away the shoes and the lunch bag. She sits on the
steps and they remain silent for a time.)

GLORIA: (Rising)-Filching an apple that’s too small a reason to kick a poor man out of
work. You should ask them to give you a second chance, Mario.

MARIO: They won’t do that.

GLORIA: Why not?

MARIO: (Rises) Can.t you see they had been waiting for me to make a slip like that?
They’ve wanted to throw me out for any reason, so that they may bring their own men
in.

GLORIA: You should complain.

MARIO: If I did? They would dig up my police record.

GLORIA: (Crosses to him)- But, Mario that was so long ago! Why would they try to dig
that thing up?

MARIO: They’ll do anything to keep me out .(Holds her arm.) But don’t worry, I’ll find
another job. It isn’t really so hard to look for a job nowadays. (From this point he avoids
her eyes). You know I’ve been job hunting for a week now, and I think I have found a
good job.

GLORIA: There you go, lying again.

MARIO: Believe me, I’m not lying this time.

GLORIA:(Crosses to the center)- -You’re always lying- I can’t tell when you’re telling the
truth or not.

MARIO: In fact, I’ll see someone tonight who knows of a company that needs a night
watchman.

GLORIA: (Holds his arm) Honest?

MARIO: (Avoids her eyes) Honest! (Sits down.)

GLORIA: I knew God wouldn’t let us down. He never lets anybody down. I’ll pray
tonight and ask Him to let you have that job. (Looks at Mario) But, Mario would it mean
that you’d have to stay out all night?

MARIO: That would be all right. I can always sleep during the day.

GLORIA: (Brushes against him like a cat)- What I mean is, it will be different when you
aren’t by my side at night. (Walks away from him.) But, oh, I think I’ll get used to it.
(Crosses to the center and turns around.) Why don’t you go and see this friend of yours
right now? Anyway, you don’t have anything to do tonight. Don’t you think it’s wise to
see him as early as you can?
MARIO:(After a pause)-Yes, I think I’ll do that. (Gloria crosses to the steps to get his
shoes, followed by Mario.)

GLORIA: (Hands him the shoes.)- Here, Mario, put these on and go I’ll step up and wait
for you. (Sits on the steps and watches him.)

MARIO: (Putting on the shoes)- No, Gloria, you must not wait for me. I may be back
quite late.
GLORIA: All right, but I doubt if I can sleep a wink until you return. (Gloria comes up to
him after he finishes and tries to hug him, but he pushes her away). Suddenly confused,
he sits on the steps. Gloria sits beside him and plays with his hands.)

GLORIA: Mother was wrong. You know, before we got married, she used to tell me:
“Gloria, you’ll commit the greatest mistake of your life if you marry that good-for-
nothing loafer! “Oh, I wish she were alive now, she would have seen how much you’ve
changed.
(She sees someone behind the tree: Pablo. He has been watching them for a time. He is
older than Mario, sinister-looking, and well dressed.)

PABLO: (Sarcastic)-Hmmmmmm How romantic!

MARIO: Pablo!
(Suddenly unnerved, Mario starts to fidget. Gloria rises and walks to the center, her eyes
burning with hate. Pablo lights a cigarette, never taking his eyes burning with hate.
Pablo lights a cigarette, never taking his eyes off her.)

PABLO: You’re not glad to see me, are you? (Puts a foot on the bench.)

GLORIA: (Angry)- What are you doing here? What do you want?

PABLO: Saaaay! Is that the right way to receive a friend who has come a visiting?
GLORIA: We don’t care for your visits!

PABLO: You haven’t changed a bit, Gloria… not a bit.

GLORIA : Neither have you, I can see!

PABLO: You’re still that same woman who cursed me to hell because I happened to be
Mario’s friend long before you met him. Time has not made you any kinder to me. You
still hate me, don’t you?

GLORIA: Yes! And I wish you’d stay away from us for the rest of our lives!

PABLO: Am I not staying away from you?

GLORIA: Then why are you here?

PABLO: God! May I not even come to see you now and then, to see if life has been kind
to you? How are you getting along?

GLORIA: (Scornfully) We were doing well until you showed up!

PABLO: Your daughter- she was only that high when I saw her last. How is she?

GLORIA: She’s all right!

PABLO: Oh! and I thought she had not been very well.

GLORIA: (Suspicious) How did you know? (To Mario). Did you tell him?

MARIO: I … how could I? I haven’t seen him in a long time … (Sits down.) until now of
course.
PABLO: What? is she sick with?

GLORIA: (Curtly)- We don’t know!

PABLO: Don’t you think you should take her to a doctor? (Puts his foot down and pulls
out his wallet). Here, I’ll loan you a few pesos. It may help your daughter to get well.

GLORIA: (Scornfully)- We need it all right, but no, thank you.

PABLO: Why don’t you take it!

GLORIA: Paying you back will only mean seeing your face again.

PABLO: Well, if you hate my face so much, you don’t have to pay me back. Take it as a
gift.

GLORIA: The more reason I should refuse it!

PABLO: All right, if that’s how you want it.- (Sits down and plays with the wallet.)

GLORIA: Mario has stopped depending on you, since the day I took him away from your
“clutches”! I have no regrets.

PABLO: How about Mario? Has he no regrets either?

GLORIA: He has none.

PABLO: How can you be so sure? When he and I were pals we could go to first-class air-
conditioned movie houses every other day. I’ll bet all the money I have here now
(brandishing his wallet) that he has not been to one since you “liberated” him from me.
And that was almost four years ago.
GLORIA: One cannot expect too much from honest money- and we don’t.

PABLO: (Rises and walks about) What is honest money? Does it look better than
dishonest money? Does it buy more? honesty? What is it? Dressing like that? Staying in
this dungeon you call a house? Is that what you call “honesty”?

MARIO: (Rises)- Pablo!

PABLO: See what happened to your daughter. That is what honesty has done to her. And
how can honesty help her now? She’s not sick and needs: food. Good food.

MARIO: Pablo!

GLORIA: I know you have come to lead him back to your dishonest ways, but you can’t.
He won’t listen to you now now! We have gone this far and we can go on living without
your help!

PABLO: ( Sarcastic) – You call this living? This, Gloria is what you call dying- dying
slowly-minute by minute. (Laughs.)
MARIO: (Crosses to him and shakes him)- Pablo, stop it! (Pablo stops). You shouldn’t
have come.

PABLO: I got tired waiting for you!

GLORIA: So, you have been seeing each other! I was afraid so!

PABLO : He came to the house yesterday.

MARIO: Pablo, don’t-

PABLO: (Ignoring Mario) He said he would be back this noon. But he didn’t show up. I
came because I was afraid his conscience was bothering him.

MARIO- Pablo, I told you she should not know!

PABLO: It’s all right, Mario. You’d better tell her everything. She’s bound to know later.
Tell her what you told me: that you no longer believe in the way she wanted you to live.
Tell her. (Mario turns his back on them.)

GLORIA: Mario… is this what you meant by another job?

MARIO: Gloria… you…you must try to understand… I tried… but I could not left us out
of this kind of life…

GLORIA: (shouts at Pablo)- You’re to blame for this, you son-of-devil!

PABLO: He came to me first-

GLORIA: When you know he’ll cling to anything and do anything! Even return to the life
he hates! Get out!

PABLO: I’ll leave-just as soon as Mario is ready to go.

GLORIA: He’s not going with you!

PABLO: Is that so! Why don’t you ask him? - (sits on the bench, grinning.)

GLORIA: ( to Mario)- You’re not going with him, are you, Mario? Tell him to leave us
and never come back! Tell him to go, please, Mario… I know he has talked to you and
tried to poison your mind again… but don’t go with him.

MARIO:(Holds her) – Gloria, I…

PABLO : Don’t worry about him, Gloria. He’s safe with me.

MARIO: ( Pulls her away)- You stay there, Pablo, I’ll be with you in a minute.

MARIO:-Gloria, I’m going with him.

GLORIA: Don’t Mario, don’t…

MARIO: You can’t make me stop now; I’ve thought about this since last week.
GLORIA- No, no Mario, no … (Holds fast to him.)

MARIO: You take good care of yourself and our child. I’ll take good care of myself. Don’t
wait up for me. I’ll come home very late. (Mario walks away with Pablo. Gloria stares at
them, then she shouts.)

GLORIA- MARIOOOOOOOOOO!
(She covers her face with her dress and cries into it. The daughter, from inside, joins her
crying as the curtain closes.)
 Rolando S. Tinio was born on March 5, 1937. He was a playwright, thespian,
poet, teacher, critic, and translator that marked his career with prolific artistic
productions. Tinio’s chief distinction is as a stage director whose original insights into
the scripts he handled brought forth productions’ notable for their visual impact and
intellectual cogency. He also won the National Artist for Theater and Literature. He died
on July 7, 1997.

VALEDICTION SA HILLCREST
Rolando S. Tinio

Pagkacollect ng Railway Express sa aking things

(Deretso na iyon sa barko while I take the plane.)

Inakyat kong muli ang N-311, at dahil dead of winter,

Nakatopcoat at galoshes akong

Nagright-turn sa N wing ng mahabang dilim

(Tunnel yatang aabot hanggang Tundo.)

Kinapa ko ang switch sa hall.

Sa isang pitik, nagshrink ang imaginary tunnel,

Nagparang ataol.

Or catacomb.

Strangely absolute ang impression

Ng hilera ng mga pintong nagpuprusisyon:

Individual identification, parang mummy cases,

 De-nameplate, de-numero, de-hometown address.

Antiseptic ang atmosphere, streamlined yet.

Kung hindi catacomb, at least

E filing cabinet.

Filing, hindi naman deaths, ha.

Remembrances, oo. Yung medyo malapot

Dahil alam mo na, I’m quitting the place

After two and a half years.

After two and a half years,

Di man nagkatiyempong mag-ugat, ika nga,

Siyempre’y nagging attached, parang morning glory’ng

Mahirap mapaknit sa alambreng trellis.

At pagkabukas ko sa kuwarto,

Hubo’t hubad na ang mattresses,

Wala nang kutson sa easy chair,

Mga drawer ng bureau’y nakanganga,

Sabay-sabay nag-ooration,

Nagkahiyaan, nabara.

Of course, tuloy ang radiator sa paggaralgal:

Nasa New York na si Bob and the two Allans,

Yung mga quarterbacks across the hall

Pihadong panay ang display sa Des Moines.

Don ang Cosntance aren’t coming back at all.

 Gusto ko nang magpaalam–

to whom?

The drapes? The washbowl? Sa double-decker

Na pinaikot-ikot naming ni Kandaswamy

To create space, hopeless, talagang impossible.

Of course, tuloy ang radiator sa paglagutok.

(And the stone silence,

nakakaiyak kung sumagot.)

Bueno, let’s get it over with.

It’s a long walk to the depot.

Tama na ang sophistication-sophistication.

Sa steep incline, pababa sa highway

Where all things level, sabi nga,

There’s a flurry, ang gentle-gentle.

Pagwhoosh-whoosh ng paa ko,

The snow melts right under:

Nagtutubig parang asukal,

Humuhulas,

Nagsesentimental.
 Lázaro Francisco y Angeles, also known as Lazaro A. Francisco (February 22,
1898 – June 17, 1980) was a Filipino novelist, essayist, and playwright. Francisco was
posthumously named a National Artist of the Philippines for Literature in 2009. In
1958, he established the Kapatiran ng mga Alagad ng Wikang Pilipino, roughly
translated as "Brotherhood of the Disciples of the Filipino Language", a society that
campaigned for the use of Tagalog as the national language of the Philippines. He
received other distinguished awards and accolades in literature in his lifetime, including
the Balagtas Award (1969), the Republic Cultural Heritage Award (1970), and the
Patnubay ng Sining at Kalinangan Award from the government of Manila.

MAGANDA PA ANG DAIGDIG

Lazaro Francisco

Nagsimula ang storya sa Kiyapo kung saan nahablot ang bag ni Bb. Sanchez.
Nabawi naman agad ang bag ng isang taong di kilala. Binugbog pa niya ang mga
magnanakaw. Nahuli ang mga suspek at nalaman ni Bb. Sanchez na ang pangalan ng
tumulong sa kanya ay Lino.

Ang maybahay ni Lino ay ginahasa ng mga sundalong Hapon. Sa pag-uwi ni Bb.

Sanchez sa bayan ng Pinyahan, nalaman niyang nakikipirmi si Lino kasama ang anak
niyang si Ernesto.

Tinulungan ni Bb. Sanchez at ng amahin niyan si Pari Amando na makakuha ng

trabaho si Lino. Subalit dinakip si Lino at napagbintangan siyang pumatay. Dinalaw siya
ni Pari Amando sa Maynila para malaman ang kaso. Kwinento ni Lino ang nangyari sa
kanya, kaso ang problema ay walang saksi. Pangalawang beses na itong nakulong dahil
sa walang saksi.
 Habang wala si Lino, inalagaan muna ni Bb. Sanchez si Ernesto. Noong una ay
hindi kumakain at nakakatulog si Ernesto. Nag-aalala na si Bb. Sanchez at ang ina niya.
Sinusubukan din ni Ernestina na pasiyahin si Ernesto ngunit walang nanyayari.
Binilhan na siya ng damit at lahat.

Dumalaw si Padre Amando at pinag-usapan nila ni Bb. Sanchez ang nangyari kay
Lino. Nang tanungin ng pari kung ano ang gusto nung bata, ang sinabi niya ay ang
kanyang ama. Nangako ang pari na tutulungan niya si Lino.

Pagkatapos ay dumating ang labandera ni Bb. Sanchez. Napag-usapn ng mga

kapitbahay nila na tutulungan nila si Bb. Sanchez. Dumaan din si Estanislao Villas at
sinabi na humahanap na sila ng abogado para kay Lino.

Bago umalis, nangako ang pari na pupuntahan niya si Lino at aalamin ang
kanyang kalagayan at ang katotohanan. Pagkatapos ng ilang oras ay dumating si Aling
Ambrosia, ang labandera nina Miss Sanchez.

Natagpuan na ni Rada ang saksi, pati na rin ang tunay na pumatay, sa Camarines
Sur subalit nakatakas na ito kasama ang labindalawang bilanggo habang ililipat sila sa
Muntinlipa.

Nabalitaan ngayon na si Lino at ang mga kasamahan nya ay humuhuli ng mga

Huk. Ang mga Huk ay mga manggagahasa at magnanakaw. Noong nagkita si Kumander
Hantik at at si Lino sa isang kweba, inanyayahan niya ito na sumali sa kanilang
samahan. Tumanggi si Lino. Bilang ganti, ikakalat raw ni Kumander Hantik na si Lino
ang nagsisimula ng gulo sa mga lalawigan. Nagkaroon ng Operation Scarlet subalit hindi
pa rin mahuli si Lino at ang samahan niya.

Habang nangungumpisal ang isang rantsero, nalaman ni Padre Amado ang

kinaroroonan ni Lino. Sinabi nyang tumitigil nang tumakas at binalitang alam na na
wala siyang kasalanan sa kaso. Tumigil nga si Lino at sa dulo, nalaman niyang iniibig
siya ni Bb. Sanchez.

Bienvenido N. Santos is a novelist, short story writer, poet, and activist, Santos’s
early writers were in the English language he learned at school, Tondo (the language of
his mother’s songs at home), and Tagalog (the native language of the Philippines). In
1932, he earned a B.A. from the University of the Philippines. Under the Philippine
Pensionado program (a continuation of the U.S. one begun in 1903), Santos came to the
University of Illinois for a master’s degree in English. Later he studied at Harvard,
Columbia, and, as a Rockefeller Foundation fellow, at the University of Iowa. His first
two novels, Villa Magdalena and The Volcano, were published in the Philippines in 1965.
Santos became an American citizen in 1976. One year later, the Marcos regime banned
his novel about government corruption, The Praying Man and he and his wife remained
in San Francisco. Scent of Apples (1980), his only book to be published in the United
States, won the American Book Award from the Before Columbus Foundation. He wrote
more than a dozen books about exiles in both of his adopted countries, including the
short story collections You Lovely People (1955) and Brother, My Brother (1960).

THE DAY THE DANCERS CAME

Bienvenido N. Santos

Fil and Tony were both old Filipino men living in Chicago ever since World War
II ended. Fil described himself as an ugly old man and described Tony as a good-looking
gentleman that looked younger than he really was.

The story was basically about how a group of Philippine dancers were arriving in
Chicago that day and Fil thought that it would be an excellent idea if he took the dancers
around the city, showed them the sights, and invite them back to his place for some
adobo and chicken relleno. For the first part of the story, Fil constantly talked about the
dancers to his friend and roommate Tony. Fil and Tony have been friends pretty much
ever since they moved to the US and the entire time, Tony had been suffering from a
disease that frustrated many doctors in which caused gradual peeling all over his body.

When Tony left for the doctor, Fil left a little later to meet the dancers at the
hotel. When he got there and saw all the dancers, he completely forgot what he wanted
to say and lost all train of thought. So, when he finally managed to gather up all the
confidence, he had left to invite them to his house, they would just move away or say,
"No, thanks, we’re too busy." Later that night, he ended up going to the show alone since
Tony hadn’t yet returned from the doctor. Despite the disappointment he had earlier
that day, Fil contemplated that if he would just record the show on his tape recorder, he
would have the sounds with him to help him remember the dancers, the show and bring
back past memories.

When he got home, he noticed that Tony was back. Tony commented that the
dancers weren’t with him and that he knew they never would’ve come home to him in
the first place. Fil then started to listen to his tape recorder and his failure from earlier
that day no longer mattered to him because his recording had brought him a certain
feeling and it just filled him up with different memories and emotions. While he
listened, Tony was yelling from his room telling him to shut his recorder off. When he
asked Tony what the doctors had to say, Tony wouldn’t answer. Tony then asked what
the dancers were like and Fil told him that they were really beautiful, young, and
graceful. He heard Tony let out a sigh but as he looked down to the tape recorder he held
in his hands, he noticed that the spools were spinning and he finally realized that he had
pressed erase. When he tried to play it back, there was nothing except for a screaming
part of the finale with drums and the tolling of the bell. When he looked outside, it was
already morning.
 Constante C. Casabar, was born on July 24, 1928. Casabar took his literary
training at University of Sto. Thomas had exposed him to masters of modernist fiction in
the west, and the sophisticated craftsmanship that rubbed off on him heightened his
social consciousness and rare in a novel written for the popular audience of weekly
vernacular magazines.

VISITING POVERTY
Constante C. Casabar

Characters:
Salvador
Baket Basel
Apo Binoy
Emerita
Fe, Soling
Apo Julian Manoto

Summary
The story tals about the life Salvador, his love for Emerita, the forming of a worker’s
union, and more importantly on the ruthlessness usurers who exploit the poor.
The novel is an attack on ruthless usurer, greedy politicians, and the undisciplined
military authorities. While the author recognizes the fact that industrialization is one
key to progress, he also points outr the evils of progress, which may reduce persons to
mere tolls of capitalists in attaining more power.