Published Work @ Cordite Poetry
Translated Reagan R Maiquez Poems
By Marlon James Sales and Reagan R Maiquez | 1 February 2017
Website Link: http://cordite.org.au/translations/sales-maiquez/2/
That Moment when an Owl Watches over Love
At that moment when an owl watches over love,
your sleep becomes my heart’s waking up.
The wind cradles the disquiet of your departure
in the quiet of a rustle
and your breathing that I long for.
Why does sleep have to be an awakening
as it watches over you,
embracing the width of your chest,
caressing the roughness of your hand?
Why does sleep have to be an unsleeping
every time you give in
to the peaceful slumber
of my unsheathed bereavement?
And now, my heart’s eyes are wide open
a wakeful bird flutters in joy
and in blinded love,
perched on the branches of our midnight.
Sa Sandaling Minamatyagan ng Pag-ibig ang Kuwago
Ang pagtulog mo
ay paggising ng puso ko.
Nakahele sa hangin
ang pangamba ng paglisan
nitong katahimikang
dala-dala ng indayog
at ng iyong paghinga
na matiyaga kong inaabangan.
Bakit ang antok ay gising na gising
binabantayan ka,
nakayakap sa iyong malapad na dibdib
nakahawak sa iyong magaspang na palad?
Bakit ang antok ay ang ‘di paghimbing
dahil nandito ka
at mapayapang natutulog
katabi ng aking
di maikubli-kubling
pangungulila?
At ngayon,
bukas na bukas ang mga mata
nitong aking puso
isang ‘di nahihimlay na ibong
humuhuni ng kaligayahan
at bulag na pagsinta
sa sanga ng puno
nitong ating
hatinggabi.
Pulses and Ripples
A peerless red taints the sky
and spreads through it
upon the death of the Sun.
Paleness’s peaceful dance
slowly catches fire,
there’s no heat, no blaze
in this stain that is the very picture
of the bleeding of the skies
as the eye of the moon peers out.
All the colours finally fade away:
Beauty is consumed by heat
and the firmament is drained
of its blood.
From blue to blue,
the mauve is moved
as sorrow tinges the East.
Only the waves of the sea
as they beat against the beach
and their fishy and briny kiss
on a long stretch of rocks
remain as glints that cradle
this wounded heart
each time these eyes eye
the seams of the shore
and this skin feels
the depth and body of this sea
and the heaven
on a bank on the brink of sorrow.
Pulso at Kilapsaw
Walang kaparis na pula
ang pumapailanlang at kumakalat
sa pagkamatay ng araw sa kanluran.
Payapang sayaw ng pusyaw
ang unti-unting nagniningas,
walang init, walang apoy
itong bahid na isa ring larawan
ng pagdurugo ng mga ulap
habang dumidilat ang matambuwan.
Hanggang sa huli’y
lahat ng kulay ay kumupas:
mauubos ang rikit ng init
at masasaid ang dugo
ng himpapawid. Mangangasul,
mangangasul.
Mangungulila ang lila,
at kukulapol ang luksa
sa gawing ilaya.
Tanging ang hampas
ng dagat sa dalampasigan
at halik ng lansa at alat
sa mahabang batuhan,
ang matitirang anag-ag
na siyang hehele
sa pusong sugatan;
sa tuwing tanaw
nitong mga balintataw
ang pagitan ng mga pampang.
At ramdam nitong balat
ang himbing ng lalim
at lawas nitong dagat
at langit ng dalam
hati sa pasigan.