(parenthetical description written early morning: last photo below: variation of the warrior pose. To be continued, i’ll be back at midday with more illustration! hafta run then run errands, then be back)
xxx
As promised – back from a run, and running errands.
Fortunately, this glorious morning of heroes day, with the sun beating fiercely, the U.P. Rayadillo in full regalia with an energetic marching band, the U.P ROTC, and the Andres Bonifacio choir (the sopranos were pretty good, runners could hear the high notes soaring from the Bonifacio monument, across the street, up to the Sunken Garden — what more could you ask for? not bad, not bad at all) rendered full honor rites to Andres Bonifacio…See photo above. (blog admin is saved from posting the rest of her warrior photos.)
And here’s a continuation of the blog translation series, (with apologies, blog admin presumptuous enough to translate, if only for the worldwide audience.)
You guessed it – Andres Bonifacio’s “Pag-ibig sa Tinubuang Lupa” (Love for the Motherland). Translating it is one of those forms of sacrilege which it is hoped people would forgive me for. How does one translate “sa abang-abang mawalay sa bayan?”… “Aba”, the adjective, means humble, or poor in the sense of to be pitied; “abang-aba” is very humble. “Mawalaysa bayan” literally means to be separated from the country. You cannot translate it literally. It will look like: For the very humble separated from the country. That is not the sense of it, right? (that’s why i said — presumptuous; but … have not yet been lynched so far for this translation series).
Once, just to test the language aptitude of students (my classes are bi-lingual; i wanted to test it, but i never tried this exercise again, blog admin was in stitches, stomach hurt from laughing ), i asked students to translate three lines from Andres Bonifacio’s poem.
For “sakbibi ng lumbay” (roughly, it means, enveloped by sadness), a student wrote:
“basket of sorrow”…
and i said “oh… that’s an unusual metaphor.”
Then i thought very hard.
Looked far away. Why basket? Then i said “Sakbibi… basket…? why basket”
And everybody laughed.
Apparently, the rest of the class caught on faster. They chorused “Ma’am tampipi!! hindi sakbibi!” (Ma’am, she meant tampipi!! for sakbibi!) Here’s what a tampipi looks like…(photo from tampipiatbp.multiply.com):
So — that’s why she answered, basket. Basket of sorrow.
I’m just glad i did not get an answer: Oyster. Oyster is kabibi. Sounds like sakbibi. Oyster of sorrow. Kabibi – Sakbibi. Kabibi ng lumbay.
xxx
Continuation of the translation series. Lines from Andres Bonifacio’s Pag-ibig sa Tinubuang Lupa, with apologies:
Sa abang- abang mawalay sa bayan!
Gunita ma’y laging sakbibi ng lumbay,
Walang alaalang inaasa-asam
Kundi ang makita’y lupang tinubuan.
(blog admin’s translation, with apologies:
For those suffering exile from our land
Every memory filled with sadness and love
Every remembrance stirred by longing
To see the beloved country of yearning)
Aling pag-ibig pa ang hihigit kaya
Sa pagkadalisay at pagkadakila
Gaya ng pag-ibig sa tinubuang lupa
Aling pag-ibig pa? Wala na nga wala
(blog admin’s translation, with apologies:
Is there any greater love
Any purer love… any truer love
Than love for the motherland?
Is there any other love?
Truly no other, truly unsurpassed.)
Here’s an earlier attempt to translate lines from Andres Bonifacio: (Blog post 21 May 2008):
Blog post: “Pag-ibig sa Tinubuang Lupa”
(“Love for the Motherland”) by Andres Bonifacio, excerpted (rough translation for non-Filipinos by blog admin)
“Kayong nalagasan ng bunga’t bulaklak
Kahoy niyaring buhay na nilanta’t sukat
Ng bala-balaki’t makapal na hirap
Muling manariwa’t sa baya’y lumiyag
(Those of you with felled flowers and blossom
Trees that gave life but withered in a sudden
Sapped by multiple hardship, persecution, suffering
Take heart, now they bloom in the motherland’s bosom)
“Ipakahandog-handog ang buong pag-ibig
Hanggang sa may dugo’y ubusing itigis
Kung sa pagtatanggol buhay ang kapalit
Ito’y kapalaran at tunay na langit
(Fully offering all of our love
Even if the cost is the last ounce of our blood
Should this struggle exact, the price of our life)
