You’re looking up now
at the little boat in the middle
of the sea we call the sky
When in the age of game of pirates,
loose shorts and crumpled shirts.
you patiently murmured hails, many
and praises, eyes on the rosary,
bunches of caught mystery - glory
Oh glorious! joy, Oh joyous! Of one lord
sorrow. Oh sorrowful! - pain did accord,
the little crucifix was not in discord
Beyond this bank, on the other side
a childhood friend stands, river astride:
One who used to pray with eyes closed,
kneeling, head bowed, fervent, deposed:
Now eyes, mesmerized, wide opened,
by light of this multiverse, brightened,
Of what use has the picking pole, then? End!
Knowledge’s fruit dropped, unattended
Each with a river crossed and forded
Each with its own heart exploded!
Mar 29
Mar 29, 2026 at 9:38 AM UTC
You’re looking up now
at the little boat in the middle
of the sea we call the sky
When in the age of game of pirates,
loose shorts and crumpled shirts.
you patiently murmured hails, many
and praises, eyes on the rosary,
bunches of caught mystery - glory
Oh glorious! joy, Oh joyous! Of one lord
sorrow. Oh sorrowful! - pain did accord,
the little crucifix was not in discord
Beyond this bank, on the other side
a childhood friend stands, river astride:
One who used to pray with eyes closed,
kneeling, head bowed, fervent, deposed:
Now eyes, mesmerized, wide opened,
by light of this multiverse, brightened,
Of what use has the picking pole, then? End!
Knowledge’s fruit dropped, unattended
Each with a river crossed and forded
Each with its own heart exploded!
More or less, another attempt at translating my Tagalog poem "Bangka-bangka't krus-krusan sa langit"
