Jamil Mabandis

poetry in Maguindanaon with Filipino translation by the author

Lilini

Gapangingilay ko seka
Kanu pageletan nu magabi endu tademan
Kanu kapedtana nu ulan-ulan
Endu kanu mga basa a di ku gauntul.

Kagkalendem ku seka sa uman oras.
Kanu kapi a pegkatenggaw kanu lamisan
Kanu sengal a pedsengalen ku
Endu kanu ulunan a pegkakepen sa kepedtulug ku.

Na mabaluy a masawt ka
Nu sambel na lilini ku.
Nyaku mapangeni na makatalus
Kanu bengawan nu pusung nengka.
a

Pagtangi

Hinahanap kita
Sa pagitan ng gabi at ng alaala
Sa tahimik na pamamahinga ng buwan
At sa mga salitang hindi ko masabi.

Naaalala kita sa bawat oras.
Sa kape na lumalamig sa lamesa
Sa mga kantang inaawit ko
At sa unan na yinayakap sa bawat pagtulog ko.

Kung sakaling maabot ka
Ng ihip ng hangin ng pagtangi na ito.
Hinihiling ko na sana’y patuluyin mo ito
Sa pintuan ng puso mo.

a

a

Duwa A Bitun

Linemudsu su magabi
Kanu mga lanitan
Nu duwa a bitun a bagu naaden.
Midsumbak. Mindulug. Nalili.

Sa ya nilan kinabpikit
Na ya ni mun kinasalindaw.
Salindaw a bagu
Sa mata nu madakel.

Sinemanday kanu kaudtatan nu igan
Inipanagup su dumbala a lima
Sabap sa katawan nu mga bitun
Na sa mata nu madakel
Na dusa su salindaw nilan.

Dalawang Bituin

Nag-umpisa ang gabi
Sa mga balat
Ng dalawang bituin.
Nagkasalubong. Nagkatabi. Nasiyahan.

At sa kanilang pagiging isa
Ay siya namang pagliwanag nila.
Liwanag na bago
Sa mata ng marami.

Sumanday sila sa dulo ng kama
Salo ng dalawang palad ang mukha
Dahil alam ng mga bituin
Na sa mata ng marami
Ay kasalanan ang kanilang liwanag.
a

aa

aa
Buludtu

Diyako den pakapangingata
Sa kanu gay
A mailay ku seka embalingan
Kanu galinyan nengka
A puyutan a buludtu
Lu kanu puyutan
A langun tanu na magigidsan.

Bahaghari

Hindi na ako makapaghintay pa
Sa araw
Na muli kang masilayan
Sa tinatangi mong
Duyan na kulay bahaghari
Duyan na kung saan
Lahat tayo ay pantay.

Jahara A. Solaiman

A Tupperware container flew
Several time zones in one day.
Escaped many an airport baggage scanner,
To my table made its way.

Bestowed by visiting kin,
Conjured by an aunt
As soon as the sun was in.
What more could I, far from home, want?

Misty eyes and emotions later,
Banana leaf parcels
Under the raised cover.
Longed-for delights weave their spells.

In my kitchen well-lit,
Emerald-colored lipet yield
Their bounty of kagikit.
Mounds of kuning, made with rice from Babu’s field.
Randang concocted from the softest meat,
Pyarun a bakas and a dollop of palapa to make it complete.

In seconds the fragrance of this largesse,
Had me dream of familiar shores, no less.
Of wood fires in simple homes and earthen floors,
And people going about their pastoral chores.
Kith and kin, even those I don’t fully know,
Inviting you, “bugur tano!”

And then it finally hits me: I have been away for years.
Will all this precious food understand my tears?

Sandrah Maas Saudagal

Patugyal

Limu ako sa tegkuran a walay nami,
kagina aren kakineg ko a paguni.
Pakengel a benal—
Basi aren babal.

Is mambo!!!
Patugyal besen a pagulman.
Sublay karakel a laman nin.
Pegkwak kwak su ina.

Mindarakaw ako,
Marakel pon besen su pipis in.
Tuy manawat a patugyal.
Padtuyuk lu sa ina nin.

Umenggay a papegkanin sa nasama emay.
Kalipungit si ama umengka di papegkanin.
Ugera aren a gay—
Sinumbali su patugyal.

Inadobo ni ina—
Ugeyra di ko kalenyan,
ganina kat i nanam ko sa patugyal.
Diyako ren pegkan.

Pato

Pumunta ako sa likod ng aming bahay
dahil may naririnig akong ingay
Grabe, napaka-ingay—
Baka may baliw.

Hay naku!!!
Nangigitlog pala na pato
Napakaraming itlog
“Kwak kwak,” ang sabi ng nanay.

Naglakad-lakad ako,
Ang dami niya pa pa lang anak
Ang mga munting pato
ay sumusunod-sunod sa kanilang nanay.

Araw araw pinapakain ng tirang kanin
Nagagalit si itay kung ‘di pakakainin
Pero isang araw
kinatay ang pato.

Inadobo ni inay—
Ngunit hindi ko magustuhan
dahil naaawa ako
Ayoko nang kumain.

a

Di kagangu su kayu

Nagowgan ako sa modtu—
Ka dalu sa walay si ina.
Limu siyan sa palaw na niya nen kaped a si ama.
Saki bon natabun endo si ali ko.

Kimwa ku sa kayu,
lu sa padsuran.
Aren kayu lu—
Ugeyd a meylaw.

Nasakit minem su ginawa ko.
Kagina di kagangu su kayu.
Pusakagay paguyupan bu
Di pagkaleg su apoy.

Daren maluto su umay
Nalipunget den si ina.
Makasakit ged sa ginawa—
Nyaba e kanggula.

Hindi nagniningas ang panggatong

Nagsaing ako sa tanghali—
dahil wala si nanay sa bahay
Pumunta sila sa bundok kasama si itay
Kami lang ng kapatid ko ang naiwan.

Kumuha ako ng kahoy,
doon sa bakuran
May kahoy doon,
pero hilaw pa.

Nainis na naman ako
kasi hindi nagniningas ang kahoy
Kailangan pang hipan nang masinsinan
Hindi kasi nag-aapoy.

Hindi na naluto yung kanin
Nagalit na si nanay
Ang sakit sa damdamin
Ang mga ganitong pangyayari.a

a

Pedsawl kami

Gimaram den si ina.
Nagowgan sa magan mapita.
Malibuting pon.
Ugeyda penggaram den su mga taw.

Pedtog ako pon sa meton tu—
saki endo si ali ko.
Pinukaw kami ni ina.
Gagina pedsawl kami samaya.

Megkapi ako muna.
Kagina pakatowg ako pon.
Ugeyda si ina a kimwit den sa umay.
Keman kami ren kun.

Nakowma si tuwa—
Aren anggit en a seda.
Nawmanan su pedsara nami.
Ininggan bo nami sekanin a sapi.

Nagsasawl Kami

Gumising na si nanay.
Nagsaing sa madaling araw
Madilim pa,
Ngunit gising na ang mga tao

Tulog pa ako—
Ako, at ang kapatid Ko
Ginising kami ni nanay
Kase magsasasawl Kami.

Nagkape muna ako
dahil inaantok pa’ko
Pero si nanay, inihanda na ang kanin
Kumain na raw kami.

Biglang dumating si lola
May dala siyang isda
Nadagdagan ang aming ulam
Binigyan din namin siya ng baka.

Nathara Mugong

I sat by the pantan, pen in hand,
aaaabeside me, Kakah holding her silence.

In that quiet,
athe sea spoke first—
ain the creak of wood,
ain the wind threading through the ropes,
ain the tired hands that had known
athe water longer than words.

“Teinga leh nu mag tagna?”
aaHow do you begin?

“Mba,” she said. I don’t.

“Ni lagaran leh ku tatammu leh pallat ya labayan na padeyom,”
aaI wait for the salt to find its way in,

“Mba kow ka igal subey du ya gaba paloros min lapis kuwit nu.”
aaYou cannot dance until the tide flows beneath your skin.

“Bang aku song-song usik, wal kulluk du ya,”
aaIf I move too soon, it is only a form,

“Bang lagaran ku sampey aku ponno, minjari ya kissa.”
aaIf I wait until I am full, then it becomes a story.

My eyes fell on the page—
white, unyielding,
waiting for what I could not yet name.

Ni sulayan leh ku ni saggow dilaut ma saga bissara,
aaI try to catch the sea in languages,

sah saga himungmungan bate na saga key-key
aabut the words are like empty shells.

Kakah smiled.
She lifted her palm to the sky,
aacurving like a wave,
aapaused just before it breaks.

“Sabab pasal”
aathat is because,

“yani sulat leh nu ya bohe.”
aayou are writing about the water.

“Paharok.” Stop.

“Kissahun angan mag napas ma deyo ta.”
aaFeel the reef breathing beneath us.

“Kissahun paddi ya selopen ma ungus.”
aaFeel the ache of plastic in the sand.

“Kissahun lihan lepa umbo nu.”
aaFeel the ghost of your grandfather’s boat.

“Pakarulin paharok ma asangnu sampey agon ngamanas takissa nu”
aaLet it sit in your lungs until it burns.

She moved her wrist—
aaa circle, a ripple,
aathe lift of a wing.

“Bey bowa ku igal iti min subu,”
aaI carried this dance all morning.

“Iti ya buhat ma baha ku.”
aaA weight in my shoulders.

“Ya limbung ma laha ku.”
aaA secret in my blood.

“Tenaan, ni palappa na adja leh ku.”
aaNow, I am only letting it out.

I closed my eyes.
aStopped looking at the horizon.
aListened to my heart
aaakeeping time with the waves.

“Subey dusab maka bakat-atey diki-diki.”
aaIt has to hurt a little, I said, my pen touching the page.

“Atawa subey dusab maka uli diki-diki.”
aaOr it has to heal a little, she replied,
aaarms wide enough to hold the sea.

“Maingkan subey kau ya rapu dahu humbo ya dunya.”
aaBut it must be yours first before it belongs to the world.

“Pasorun ni deyom baran nu,”
aaAbsorb it fully into your body,

“paluwasun min tangan nu”
aarelease it through your hands.

May you always
aaaabe open enough to feel
and your hands
aaaabold enough to create.

Sittie Raihanah Macaager

(For Ina, my grandmother)

When did you arrive?
Have you eaten yet?
Where are you?

You used to ask me those questions
like they were part of breathing.
Now I ask the wind,
and it answers with nothing.

You died right after I graduated.
Right after the one moment
you waited your whole life for.

I wore that gown with pride.
Now it feels cursed.
Heavy with the silence of
what I never got to say.

I didn’t even get to tell you I made it.
That I did it for you.

Why does love stay so long,
only to tear itself away
in one violent second?

You were beautiful,
not in a delicate, storybook way.
You were beautiful in how you stayed.
Through hunger.
Through illness.
Through whispered prayers
when the world forgot to listen.

And now you’re gone.

I cry when no one’s watching.
Not to be seen,
but as if the ache
might bring you back.

Instead, it soaks my chest in salt,
chokes my throat with
everything I never said.

The tears are heavy,
not because I’m weak,
but because
you took a part of me with you.
And I didn’t get to choose.

You gave love
that asked for nothing.
Unconditional. Unshaken.
And all I gave you
was a goodbye you never heard.

I saw you leave,
not just the body,
but your soul
slipping out
like breath in winter air.

And I just stood there,
alive,
but empty.

They buried you,
as if any grave
could hold what you were.
But no grave is deep enough
for this kind of love.
This kind of loss.

If love could raise the dead,
I’d scream it into the sky
until my voice shattered.

But you’re not coming back.
And I am left
with a hundred memories,
a thousand regrets,
and a silence too loud to name.

I miss you in ways
language cannot carry.
And it hurts
more than anything I’ve ever known.

Ina, this is my ode to you.

My gown,
the one you longed to see.
My success,
your ever dream.

I got it.
I did it.
And it was all for you.