In a field one summer's day a grasshopper was hopping about, chirping and singing to its heart's content. A group of ants walked by, grunting as they struggled to carry plump kernels of corn.
"Where are you going with those heavy things?" asked the grasshopper.
Without stopping, the first ant replied, "To our ant hill. This is the third kernel I've delivered today."
"Why not come and sing with me," teased the grasshopper, "instead of working so hard?"
"We are helping to store food for the winter," said the ant, "and think you should do the same."
"Winter is far away and it is a glorious day to play," sang the grasshopper.
But the ants went on their way and continued their hard work.
The weather soon turned cold. All the food lying in the field was covered with a thick white blanket of snow that even the grasshopper could not dig through. Soon the grasshopper found itself dying of hunger.
He staggered to the ants' hill and saw them handing out corn from the stores they had collected in the summer. He begged them for something to eat.
"What!" cried the ants in surprise, "haven't you stored anything away for the winter? What in the world were you doing all last summer?"
"I didn't have time to store any food," complained the grasshopper; "I was so busy playing music that before I knew it the summer was gone."
The ants shook their heads in disgust, turned their backs on the grasshopper and went on with their work.
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.
Adios, Patria adorada, region del sol querida, Perla del Mar de Oriente, nuestro perdido Eden! A darte voy alegre la triste mustia vida, Y fuera más brillante más fresca, más florida, Tambien por tí la diera, la diera por tu bien.
En campos de batalla, luchando con delirio Otros te dan sus vidas sin dudas, sin pesar; El sitio nada importa, ciprés, laurel ó lirio, Cadalso ó campo abierto, combate ó cruel martirio, Lo mismo es si lo piden la patria y el hogar.
Yo muero cuando veo que el cielo se colora Y al fin anuncia el día trás lóbrego capuz; Si grana necesitas para teñir tu aurora, Vierte la sangre mía, derrámala en buen hora Y dórela un reflejo de su naciente luz.
Mis sueños cuando apenas muchacho adolescente, Mis sueños cuando joven ya lleno de vigor, Fueron el verte un día, joya del mar de oriente Secos los negros ojos, alta la tersa frente, Sin ceño, sin arrugas, sin manchas de rubor.
Ensueño de mi vida, mi ardiente vivo anhelo, Salud te grita el alma que pronto va á partir! Salud! ah que es hermoso caer por darte vuelo, Morir por darte vida, morir bajo tu cielo, Y en tu encantada tierra la eternidad dormir.
Si sobre mi sepulcro vieres brotar un dia Entre la espesa yerba sencilla, humilde flor, Acércala a tus labios y besa al alma mía, Y sienta yo en mi frente bajo la tumba fría De tu ternura el soplo, de tu hálito el calor.
Deja á la luna verme con luz tranquila y suave; Deja que el alba envíe su resplandor fugaz, Deja gemir al viento con su murmullo grave, Y si desciende y posa sobre mi cruz un ave Deja que el ave entone su cantico de paz.
Deja que el sol ardiendo las lluvias evapore Y al cielo tornen puras con mi clamor en pos, Deja que un sér amigo mi fin temprano llore Y en las serenas tardes cuando por mi alguien ore Ora tambien, Oh Patria, por mi descanso á Dios!
Ora por todos cuantos murieron sin ventura, Por cuantos padecieron tormentos sin igual, Por nuestras pobres madres que gimen su amargura; Por huérfanos y viudas, por presos en tortura Y ora por tí que veas tu redencion final.
Y cuando en noche oscura se envuelva el cementerio Y solos sólo muertos queden velando allí, No turbes su reposo, no turbes el misterio Tal vez acordes oigas de citara ó salterio, Soy yo, querida Patria, yo que te canto á ti.
Y cuando ya mi tumba de todos olvidada No tenga cruz ni piedra que marquen su lugar, Deja que la are el hombre, la esparza con la azada, Y mis cenizas antes que vuelvan á la nada, El polvo de tu alfombra que vayan á formar.
Entonces nada importa me pongas en olvido, Tu atmósfera, tu espacio, tus valles cruzaré, Vibrante y limpia nota seré para tu oido, Aroma, luz, colores, rumor, canto, gemido Constante repitiendo la esencia de mi fé.
Mi Patria idolatrada, dolor de mis dolores, Querida Filipinas, oye el postrer adios. Ahi te dejo todo, mis padres, mis amores. Voy donde no hay esclavos, verdugos ni opresores, Donde la fé no mata, donde el que reyna es Dios.
Adios, padres y hermanos, trozos del alma mía, Amigos de la infancia en el perdido hogar, Dad gracias que descanso del fatigoso día; Adios, dulce extrangera, mi amiga, mi alegria, Adios, queridos séres morir es descansar.
Though YoU TeLL Me Not By: Evangeline Guerero Though You Tell Me Not By: Evangeline Guerero
Translated by: Alfredo S. Veloso
I know you love me, though you tell me not, I know you hold me captive for always In the strong nets of your life, Celestial thurible of a perennial dream. Though you tell me not that without me You cannot live, My desire tells me ‘tis all true: That many sad flowers girdle your forehead If when depressed, you think of an Awakening. What shall I tell you? I look at you… and I am silent. Well do you comprehend now my deep Silence. The star turned flower in the distant sky Contemplates its shadow on the waters Without fear. Let my sorrow on your breast repose, Like a weary traveling dove. Beneath the tepid shade of the tranquil Orchard Let us the kind caress of peace enjoy. May repose be a song, a serenade, While in the hour serene we baste The ripened dreams of past epochs That with effluvium fill our old souls. Though you tell me not you think of me, That all of me in your heart you keep, Return to remembrance shall I and finding You, Though you tell me not I shall know that It is love!
The Grasshopper and the Ants
ReplyDeleteIn a field one summer's day a grasshopper was hopping about, chirping and singing to its heart's content. A group of ants walked by, grunting as they struggled to carry plump kernels of corn.
"Where are you going with those heavy things?" asked the grasshopper.
Without stopping, the first ant replied, "To our ant hill. This is the third kernel I've delivered today."
"Why not come and sing with me," teased the grasshopper, "instead of working so hard?"
"We are helping to store food for the winter," said the ant, "and think you should do the same."
"Winter is far away and it is a glorious day to play," sang the grasshopper.
But the ants went on their way and continued their hard work.
The weather soon turned cold. All the food lying in the field was covered with a thick white blanket of snow that even the grasshopper could not dig through. Soon the grasshopper found itself dying of hunger.
He staggered to the ants' hill and saw them handing out corn from the stores they had collected in the summer. He begged them for something to eat.
"What!" cried the ants in surprise, "haven't you stored anything away for the winter? What in the world were you doing all last summer?"
"I didn't have time to store any food," complained the grasshopper; "I was so busy playing music that before I knew it the summer was gone."
The ants shook their heads in disgust, turned their backs on the grasshopper and went on with their work.
Katapusang Hibik Ng Pilipinas
ReplyDeleteAndres 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.
Mi Ultimo Adiós
ReplyDeleteAdios, Patria adorada, region del sol querida,
Perla del Mar de Oriente, nuestro perdido Eden!
A darte voy alegre la triste mustia vida,
Y fuera más brillante más fresca, más florida,
Tambien por tí la diera, la diera por tu bien.
En campos de batalla, luchando con delirio
Otros te dan sus vidas sin dudas, sin pesar;
El sitio nada importa, ciprés, laurel ó lirio,
Cadalso ó campo abierto, combate ó cruel martirio,
Lo mismo es si lo piden la patria y el hogar.
Yo muero cuando veo que el cielo se colora
Y al fin anuncia el día trás lóbrego capuz;
Si grana necesitas para teñir tu aurora,
Vierte la sangre mía, derrámala en buen hora
Y dórela un reflejo de su naciente luz.
Mis sueños cuando apenas muchacho adolescente,
Mis sueños cuando joven ya lleno de vigor,
Fueron el verte un día, joya del mar de oriente
Secos los negros ojos, alta la tersa frente,
Sin ceño, sin arrugas, sin manchas de rubor.
Ensueño de mi vida, mi ardiente vivo anhelo,
Salud te grita el alma que pronto va á partir!
Salud! ah que es hermoso caer por darte vuelo,
Morir por darte vida, morir bajo tu cielo,
Y en tu encantada tierra la eternidad dormir.
Si sobre mi sepulcro vieres brotar un dia
Entre la espesa yerba sencilla, humilde flor,
Acércala a tus labios y besa al alma mía,
Y sienta yo en mi frente bajo la tumba fría
De tu ternura el soplo, de tu hálito el calor.
Deja á la luna verme con luz tranquila y suave;
Deja que el alba envíe su resplandor fugaz,
Deja gemir al viento con su murmullo grave,
Y si desciende y posa sobre mi cruz un ave
Deja que el ave entone su cantico de paz.
Deja que el sol ardiendo las lluvias evapore
Y al cielo tornen puras con mi clamor en pos,
Deja que un sér amigo mi fin temprano llore
Y en las serenas tardes cuando por mi alguien ore
Ora tambien, Oh Patria, por mi descanso á Dios!
Ora por todos cuantos murieron sin ventura,
Por cuantos padecieron tormentos sin igual,
Por nuestras pobres madres que gimen su amargura;
Por huérfanos y viudas, por presos en tortura
Y ora por tí que veas tu redencion final.
Y cuando en noche oscura se envuelva el cementerio
Y solos sólo muertos queden velando allí,
No turbes su reposo, no turbes el misterio
Tal vez acordes oigas de citara ó salterio,
Soy yo, querida Patria, yo que te canto á ti.
Y cuando ya mi tumba de todos olvidada
No tenga cruz ni piedra que marquen su lugar,
Deja que la are el hombre, la esparza con la azada,
Y mis cenizas antes que vuelvan á la nada,
El polvo de tu alfombra que vayan á formar.
Entonces nada importa me pongas en olvido,
Tu atmósfera, tu espacio, tus valles cruzaré,
Vibrante y limpia nota seré para tu oido,
Aroma, luz, colores, rumor, canto, gemido
Constante repitiendo la esencia de mi fé.
Mi Patria idolatrada, dolor de mis dolores,
Querida Filipinas, oye el postrer adios.
Ahi te dejo todo, mis padres, mis amores.
Voy donde no hay esclavos, verdugos ni opresores,
Donde la fé no mata, donde el que reyna es Dios.
Adios, padres y hermanos, trozos del alma mía,
Amigos de la infancia en el perdido hogar,
Dad gracias que descanso del fatigoso día;
Adios, dulce extrangera, mi amiga, mi alegria,
Adios, queridos séres morir es descansar.
Though YoU TeLL Me Not By: Evangeline Guerero
ReplyDeleteThough You Tell Me Not
By: Evangeline Guerero
Translated by: Alfredo S. Veloso
I know you love me, though you tell me not, I know you hold me captive for always In the strong nets of your life, Celestial thurible of a perennial dream.
Though you tell me not that without me You cannot live, My desire tells me ‘tis all true: That many sad flowers girdle your forehead If when depressed, you think of an Awakening.
What shall I tell you? I look at you… and I am silent. Well do you comprehend now my deep Silence. The star turned flower in the distant sky Contemplates its shadow on the waters Without fear.
Let my sorrow on your breast repose, Like a weary traveling dove. Beneath the tepid shade of the tranquil Orchard Let us the kind caress of peace enjoy.
May repose be a song, a serenade, While in the hour serene we baste The ripened dreams of past epochs That with effluvium fill our old souls.
Though you tell me not you think of me, That all of me in your heart you keep, Return to remembrance shall I and finding You, Though you tell me not I shall know that It is love!
sir.,I already have my essay about the colonization literature.,
ReplyDeletejust view my blogspot..
krizzadiwa.blogspot.com
thanks..!!!
krizzadiwa
BEEd 1A
my analogy about colonization on my website...
ReplyDeleteHow Colonization Shape Our Future
ReplyDeleteLink: http://mitchjimenez001.blogspot.com/2011/02/how-colonization-shape-our-future.html
ESSAY: How Colonization Shape Our Future
ReplyDeleteLINK: http://rodeloclares001.blogspot.com/2011/02/essay-colonization-shaping-our-future.html