Ang wikang nanlaban,
ay ang wikang nanatili.
Ang wikang di nag-atubili,
ay ang wikang nagwagi.
Ang wika ng mga matatapang,
ay ang wikang di maaagawan.
Ang wikang awitin ng araw
at ang wikang tula ng buwan.
Ang wikang harana ng habagat
at ang wikang isinulat ng dagat.
Ang wikang ibinaybay ng alon
at ang wikang di aanurin ng baybay.
Ang wikang sinambit ng mga ninuno
na kailanman ay di mamamatay.
Ang wikang ginamit ng mga bayani
na habambuhay nang mamamalagi.
Ang wikang matapang,
ang wika ko magpasawalang-hanggan.

If the green waves in Siargao
and the blue swells in La Union
could meet somewhere and speak,
what would they talk about?
In what language, even?
Ilocano? Bisaya? Tagalog? Español?
Or perhaps the better question is;
what would they 𝘯𝘰𝘵 talk about?
If the waters of Siargao could introduce itself
to the northwest wind of La Union,
I think,
they would create waves more gigantic
than Bondi or Nazare.
And if the eastern Pacific wind of Siargao
kiss the West Philippine Sea beside La Union,
I believe,
they would cause tsunami bigger than Japan's.
The waves would be bigger than anywhere else,
together they would be the best.
Or they could be the worst.
And so God willed La Union in the northwest,
and Siargao further down south in Mindanao.
And so they could not speak, meet and kiss...

At kung napapagal ka na sa haba ng lakbay,
nababagot sa buhay o kawalan nitong taglay,
kung hapong-hapo ka na sa alon ng lumbay,
hayaan **** hayaan kitang dumaong,
pumarito ka sa aking baybay,
pumarada ka at pumatong.
𝘠 𝘥𝘶𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘦 𝘥𝘶𝘭𝘤𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦 𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘢 𝘯𝘰𝘤𝘩𝘦,
𝘣𝘢𝘫𝘰 𝘮𝘪 𝘤𝘪𝘦𝘭𝘰 𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘥𝘰.
𝘠𝘰 𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘳é 𝘱𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘪, 𝘥𝘦𝘧𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳é 𝘵𝘶 𝘤𝘶𝘦𝘳𝘱𝘰
𝘥𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘴 𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘰𝘴.
Kung napapagod ka na sa tagal ng byahe,
mananatili ba o muling mag-iimpake?
Kung nalilito saan nga ba patungo,
sa dako kaya rito, o dako roon?
Hayaan **** hayaan kitang huminto.
Pumara ka, papalapit, pumarito.
𝘋𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘢 𝘺 𝘢𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘢 𝘵𝘶 𝘨𝘢𝘭𝘦ó𝘯,
𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘴
𝘺 𝘮𝘪 𝘭𝘶𝘯𝘢 𝘭𝘶𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘴𝘢 𝘲𝘶𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘢.
𝘚𝘰𝘺 𝘵𝘶 𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘦 𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘻𝘢,
𝘵𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘳é 𝘭𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘴 𝘺 𝘱𝘦𝘴𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘴.

Maybe I don't wanna be better?
If your definition of "better" is to risk
this spark of joy and trade it
for pangs of burn and bouts of pain,
then maybe I don't wanna be better.
My darling dear,
life is already painful as it is.
Maybe I wanna surf where it wouldn't hurt?
And if being around
other hurt surfers would,
I'd very much fancy riding the waves alone,
catch a break or break down on my own,
so I wanna surf where it wouldn't hurt.
My north wind,
reality cuts deeper than reefs.
Maybe I wanna stay in the shallow?
If your depth is where I could lose myself,
yet again, and break my back,
skin and bones
and swim back to shore
or drift lifeless alone,
then maybe I just wanna stay in the shallow.
My grand sea,
love should not hurt and bleed.

Here is a list of things that are bigger,
greater than all of the world's oceans,
bigger than the storms in the seas,
than all the islands in the Pacific,
connecting all of us together,
being one great channel of culture...
Telenovela, chismes, galeones,
teleserye, chismis, galleon.
𝘚𝘪𝘣𝘢𝘵 𝘯𝘪 𝘓𝘢𝘱𝘶-𝘓𝘢𝘱𝘶, 𝘣𝘢𝘭𝘢𝘵 𝘯𝘪 𝘔𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘯.
𝘌𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘥𝘢 𝘯𝘪 𝘔𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘯? 𝘒𝘢𝘩𝘶𝘭𝘶𝘨𝘢𝘯 𝘯𝘨 𝘬𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘢𝘯.
Sangría? No, sangre de Magallanes.
𝘕𝘪ñ𝘰𝘴, 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦 𝘦𝘯 𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘢 𝘦𝘯 𝘷𝘦𝘻
𝘥𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘻𝘢𝘳 𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘰 𝘨𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴.
And believe it or not;
Bulerías, danza, bachata, habaneras.
How do you like your coffee, bebe?
Con leche? Bueno.
Evaporada and condensada?
Tequila, San Miguel, Mezcal, Corona,
Cerveza, Serbesa, Cerrado, Sarado.
𝘈𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘰 𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘨𝘢 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘢,
𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘶𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘶𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘦𝘭𝘰.
Actually, how do you like your coffee?
𝘛𝘦 𝘨𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘢 𝘴𝘪𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘦𝘳𝘢 𝘦𝘭 𝘤𝘢𝘧é?
𝘚𝘪 𝘯𝘰, 𝘯𝘰 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘰 𝘲𝘶𝘦 𝘱𝘶𝘦𝘥𝘢 𝘴𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘶 𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘰.
So do you like it hot or con hielo?
And of course;
Canciones, c/kanta,
And nowㅡreggateon, budots.
Gasolina? Aserejé? Macarena?
Bad Bunny, being our new Columbus.
Playitas, islas, karagatan, nuestro paraíso.
Mas chismes, mas tazas de cafe.
How do you think we're so far yet so alike?
Of all these things? Con chisme? Claro.
So which one first? The juiciest or latest?

You don't need to travel all over the world
to know that there are many Gods.
Plenty of teachings, multitude of words,
from west to east to your nest and back.
Hundreds of chants and hours of prayers,
written in ink of blood or black.

And I don't need to travel all over the world
to know that you were made by the same God
who created the vast oceans,
who sculpted the mountains,
who made the lightning,
who moulded the earth.

And I don't need to practice every religion,
learn the ways of all man,
to know that you are already my answered prayer,
to know that you are the one that I want,
to know that you are the man I would kneel before,
and pray as if your kiss is my final salvation.

And you don't need to pray anymore from now on,
learn the ways of no other unworthy man,
for you to know that my name is the only prayer,
to know the truth that I am the one you want,
to know that it's me you would sail the deadly seas, fight crusades for,
and call my name like a prayer, as if my touch is your new religion.

Ang letrang matapang.
Ang unang letra ng mga tao
na pinakamatatapang daw.
Ang unang letra ng salitang "laban",
ng "laot"
ng "lami"
ng "laya",
libro.
libertad.
lagrima.
Otra vez, libertad.
La palabra, "La"
La Union.
La Reina.
LA MANILEÑA.
La poeta.
La escritora maxima.
Lakambini.
Learning.
Laughing.
Loving.
Living.
Life.
Live­. Laugh. Love.