Norhana Maguid
Mula sa ibayo may huwad na pag-asa,
Bulawan a pedtinang sa mga mata
Inagos ng dagat, kinang ng araw at tala
Inipailay kanu mga Moro a manguda
Paanyayang paglaban para sa bansa
Di mapaulipen sa madakel a banyaga
Balot man takot at lubhang pangamba
Minayun, mimbag’l endu midsapa
Sa lupa ng Corregidor dumampi ang mga paa
Su mga kangudan lu den ba mindal’pa
Bagsik ng alon di nila alintana
Timigk’l sa tar’m para kanu dal’pa
Lumipas kayraming mga tala
Dala pun ganggula tidtu a naangga
Ang tanong ng marami’y, “Ano ba? Ano ba?”
“Mana kami bilanggo, ngin i ad’n siya?”
Isang gabing umawit ang mga bala
Bamedtulog silan, p’bpipireng i mga mata
Mga hagulgol ng pusong may kaba
Inimatayan silan, La’natallah!
Nakatakas mula sa pulang alon isang kaluluwa
Kalibut’ngan i gailay sa ‘mbala-bala
Sugatan man sa tuhod at may dugong sariwa
Napauma sa tudtol a di masaupama
Mga along tahimik pumalahaw ng sadya
Tudtol a masakit, di den silan p’nggaga
Sugatang puso at pulang mga luha
“Matu tanu! Di tanu mapandaya!”
Sumiklab na nga ang madugong umaga
Di den mapadapat, itind’g su agama
Ang lahing Bangsamoro – makikibaka
Babay endu mama taman na makagaga
Sa aming diwa di mawawala
Masakit a natala ‘ndu mga nanggula
Mga buhay na naglaho at pangalang binura
Tad’man sa pamusungan su gay nu Jabidah.
English translation by the author
Silent Cry
From distant shores, a false hope came:
a glint of gold that burned the eyes,
borne by the sea, lit by sun and star,
and shown to the Moro youth.
Urging them to fight for the land they loved,
to stand against ruthless colonizers.
Though wrapped in fear and uncertainty,
they swore as one, and answered the plea.
On the soil of Corregidor, they landed,
embraced a stranger shore.
The waves were alien, the dangers unknown;
they held back their tears for home.
Stars set and rose again,
yet nothing came.
They began to wonder: ”What is this?
Have we become prisoners, suddenly, haven’t we?”
Then, one grim night, the bullets sang
their bitter melody to the sleeping ones,
to the tightly sealed eyes,
to the silent cries of frightened hearts,
slaughtered by the cursed ones of Allah.
One soul fled through the sea of blood,
met the dark shadows that closed in.
He crawled, bloodied at the knees,
and his message brought a pain beyond words.
The silent waves cried out at last—
the story too cruel, too heavy to hold.
Wounded hearts bled tears of rage:
”This is not right! Let us rise and fight!”
A blood-soaked morning broke upon them:
they would endure no more.
The Bangsamoro rose for their rights:
men and women, all who could.
And in our minds, it shall never fade:
the pain we bore, the things we saw,
the wasted lives, the erased names:
a remembrance carved in our hearts,
the day of Jabidah.