Pusong Wagas

Paul Morales, friend and Artistic Director of Ballet Philippines, asked me to write a libretto based on the legend of the founding of Mandaluyong.

In my story, there's a princess in a dysfunctional relationship with her father, the King. One night, her friend, the Anino ng Buwan, invites her to galivant outside the palace--a thing she has been expressly forbidden to do. But the promise to swim in sparkling rivers and to run barefoot on a carpet of smooth grass is too much for the princess. Riding an "uwak's feather", the two friends venture into the green and throbbing forest.

There they meet an ascetic man who tends to the big trees. The princess senses his loneliness as he whistles a song about the forest. Cloaked in invisibility, she watches him. And he senses her. When at last, the Anino ng Buwan reveals the princess, the are drawn to a kiss. And, despite the initial resistance, they fall in love.

But a Journeyman from afar arrives in their shores bearing shiny gifts in exchange for the people's gold. When the young couple avoid dealing with the stranger, a war is declared. The Journeyman sends three warriors to raze the forest and kill the couple. The princess and the man fight the warriors with all their might. They're last stronghold is by the river. Not wanting to surrender, and promising eternal love, they vow never to part as they drown in the waters.

The King discovers them gone. And his kingdom is reduced to men and women wearing sunglasses, blind from shiny but useless things they bought from the Journeyman.

By the river, a huge tree starts to grow. And at night, a large moon keeps it company. Right away, the King recognizes the tree as the man. And the princess has come back as the moon. As he sheds tears of repentance for having believed the journeyman, the Anino ng Buwan sings of the three hearts that each of us have--for our love, for our family and for our country.

Here are the lyrics to the three songs in the ballet. Music will be composed by Cynthia Alexander.

1. Anino ng Buwan

Kasintada ko
Ang hardin at puno,
Kalaro ko minsan
Ang buwaya sa ilog.
Kaibigan ko ang malamlam na puso
Ako ang Anino ng Buwan.

Aanhin mo ang buhay na tahimik
Sa luklukan dinadakila
Walang taong iniibig
Isang bato’ng
Walang awit o imik.
Magsayaw ka. Pagbigyan ang hilig.

Ihakbang mo at naroon ka na.
Maalat ang dagat, madawag ang gubat.
Maningning ang ilog. Humahalakhak.
May sipol ang dilim
Nanunukso ang pahamak.

Magsasaya tayo. (Echo: Magsasaya tayo!)
Magsisisi tayo. (Boses ni Prinsesa Manda: Patay tayo diyan.)
Kaibigan ko ang malamlam na puso.
Ako ang Anino ng Buwan.

Buksan mo ang bintana
Nandito na ako… (Encho: Engkanto…Engkanto…)
May pasalubong. (Boses ni Prinsesa Manda: Pakpak ng uwak?)
Maglalayag tayo (Boses ni Prinsesa Manda: Maglalayag tayo?)
Hanggang sa dulo ng mundo.

Ihakbang mo at naroon ka na.
Maalat ang dagat, madawag ang gubat.
Maningning ang ilog. Humahalakhak.
May sipol ang dilim
Nanunukso ang pahamak.


2. Init ng Halik

Araw-araw, sa lilim ng sanga
Kay lawak ng gubat sa aking mga mata.
Paggising sa umaga, paligid humihinga
Tumitibok, lumilingkis, namumunga.

Ang buhay na payak, aking ninanais.
Umiiwas sa lahat, di naghahanap ng labis.
Pero sa gabi, gumagapang ang lumbay
Sa buong gubat ako lang ang sablay.

Paroo’t parito ang mga paru-paro
Nanghahalina ang mga bulaklak
Sumisitsit ang mga kuliglig
Ang lupang darang, nangangailangan ng dilig.

Alagang punong-kahoy, sa kamay tumatamis
Makatas ang bunga, walang kahati
Buhay na payak, aking ninanais
Mabasag man lang minsan, sa pagdalaw ng kapangis.

Mag-alaga ng buhay, yan ang turo ni Bathala
Halaman, hayop, kapwa.
Ituro mo ang tanim na may samyo ng lambing
At didiligan ko nang walang mintis.

Alagang punong-kahoy, sa kamay tumatamis
Makatas ang bunga, walang kahati
Buhay na payak, aking ninanais
Mabasag man lang minsan, sa pagdalaw ng kapangis.

Ipakilala mo siya, aking Bathala
Ang kahati ng aking buhay
Ang buwan sa aking araw, ang dilig sa aking darang
Kaputol ng hininga. Tanging pagsinta.

At biglang buhay ko’y lalawak sa dalawa
Ang mga araw mamumunga ng wagas
Kamay sa kamay, labi mo sa labi ko
Init ng halik. Init ng halik.


3. Pusong Wagas

Huwag bibitiw
Aking sinisinta
Labi mo sa labi ko
Magpakailanman.

Tutumbasan ko
Ang sakmal, sapot o lason.
Ako ay puno at
Pag-ibig ko’y apoy.

Maglaan ng halik
Aking sinisinta
Tutubusin
Sa aking pagbalik.

Ihehele ko
Ang sakmal, sapot o lason
Ako ang Buwan
At pag-ibig ko’y apoy

Bawat isa
May pusong wagas
Tatlong pusong walang kamatayan
Pagsinta, Pamilya, Bayan.

Lulupigin ang bulkan
Tatawid sa talim ng bato
Susuko ang ilog
Sa paglunod sa iyo.

(Pero) Walang kamatayan
Ang pusong wagas
Pagsinta, Pamilya, Bayan.

Mangoes

I begin with a wonder:

That I am buried neck deep;

That in these parts, I only used to grow in India

From a soil no different from

the loam you are familiar with.

When you look out the window where you live,

our view is the same.

Under the umbrella of sky:

A cycle of sun, clouds, rain, moon, stars

parade in the field of vision.

The scenes seem captured in ordinary supermarket-bought refrigerator magnets

arranged daily,

In a random sequence,

before breakfast

by somebody,

perhaps the master of the house

or maybe, a whimsical child.

In my youth, the green leaves on my head seemed fragile

But needed no special care.

Brown branches spurted, were broken, spurted again.

And then my trunk, scaly, hard and handsome,

bore my eyes slowly

Up the ground and beyond the horizon.

In this ancient hill somewhere in India.

In what is to be known as Kashmir, Goa or Calcutta,

it does not matter,

I see fields and trees, brooks and rivers,

Flying things both great and small

Sorting themselves into a view.

Look, the Ganges snakes peacefully towards the sea.

In this promontory, I only have a yearning.

That one day I will grow to reach

That thing beyond my reach.

I have no legs, no wings.

And really, honestly—who has?

In the vastness of a universe

that many physicists say, swell and distend

like a slowly inhaling balloon

What does it take to get from one place to the end?

One step.

that seemingly simple act

of putting one foot before another.

Placing one person in that place of need.

One giant stride.

To say yes,

To not be afraid,

To forsake everything else,

To simply say, “I do.”

I have shed my leaves in many seasons,

Bore the fruit that I was destined to spew

Some as big as one’s pride,

Others as small as a cancerous node,

But always, a bright yellow sun of incomparable sweetness

Fragrant like a heart before it is broken

shaped like the skull of a baby, or

the muscular bicep of a man we knew.

My children have travelled to terra incognita.

Loved or bruised, it has found its place

Growing uncomplainingly

Springing from the earth,

To table, to food.

I feel it all.

The warm palm against my cheek.

Or a lover’s undressing of my skin

The lips pursed,

the sweet sloppy slurping

taking of what the earth has to offer.

There are yellows still.

But there are other colors, too.

Green, red, orange.

Named after the sturdiness of the carabao

Or relatives in Hawaii.

I am proud of them all.

In place of arms, my roots dig into the earth,

yearly inch into the unknown

in search of other roots to grasp.

In the damp subterranean, the darkness does not matter.

The fumbling yields a touch, a caress, an embrace,

An intertwining of roots from other trees,

in places as strange as I am

and as far as it is strange—

Kerala -Quiapo, Lisbon-Lipa, Belgium-Butuan, Sevilla-Cebu.

Versailles-Valle Verde, San Francisco Delmonte, New York, Cubao

I will share with you a secret:

The earth is held together by these clutches.

(Maybe gravity, too.)

In the future, they say, the earth will disarray,

But not today.

I say to you,

To you,

To you:

Never let go.