May iniisip ka?
Oo.
Ano?
Ayaw kong sabihin. Baka magkatotoo.
Dahil makulit ka
Kilala kita. Oo, ikaw 'yun: Nagkasalubong na tayo minsan, sa LRT, sa Gotohan, sa kanto ng Aurora at Katipunan. Nagkatinginan tayo. Hindi mo ako kinausap, pero alam ko, nakilala mo rin ako. Kaya ka narito, di ba? Para sabihing, Oo, oo, ikaw nga 'yun. Naaalala kita.
na, mula noong 24 Enero, 2006, ang nakitambay dito
The Best Days
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Lawrence Raab
It's hard to be happy, harder still to talk about it. Walking together through these intimate woods, the coins of light scattered all around us, it's enough to praise the weather. No need to disentangle what we feel from what we think. Or even to acknowledge the world, not far away, assembling its important troubles. The best days, like this one, float at the borders of our lives, as unremarkable as light, or the fluttering of leaves. We know we can't live here. Perhaps the hermit, having turned his back on us all, thinks he lives here. Or the saint, forever trusting in another life. But we don't envy them. At evening they must sit down alone to bless their hunger, which, perhaps, also makes them happy, then uneasy, as if they had betrayed some hard allegiance to feel this way, the way we feel.
A child sits by the stairs unsure about the meaning of the word sadness. (Or stares out the window, plunges a knife into his own igneous heart.) What does it matter, where he sits, what he stares at? Or if he is a child? Look, a cross sits lonely atop a cathedral’s spire, a sparrow chirps its laments perched on rain-laced electric wires. The city burns with the static fever of what was the word again? (And later, stars. Looking down at a vastness littler than themselves.) Everything expires. This means, (he is a child,) this is a knife. This is a litany of knives. This is a staircase. There are steps to be taken.
Journalist: "It might be inconvenient to interrupt our profound discussion and change the subject slightly, but I would like to know whether extraneous, abstract thoughts ever enter your head while playing a game?"
Tal: "Yes. For example, I will never forget my game with GM Vasiukov on a USSR Championship. We reached a very complicated position where I was intending to sacrifice a knight. The sacrifice was not obvious; there was a large number of possible variations; but when I began to study hard and work through them, I found to my horror that nothing would come of it. Ideas piled up one after another. I would transport a subtle reply by my opponent, which worked in one case, to another situation where it would naturally prove to be quite useless. As a result my head became filled with a completely chaotic pile of all sorts of moves, and the infamous "tree of variations", from which the chess trainers recommend that you cut off the small branches, in this case spread with unbelievable rapidity. And then suddenly, for some reason, I remembered the classic couplet by Korney Ivanovic Chukovsky: "Oh, what a difficult job it was. To drag out of the marsh the hippopotamus". I do not know from what associations the hippopotamus got into the chess board, but although the spectators were convinced that I was continuing to study the position, I, despite my humanitarian education, was trying at this time to work out: just how WOULD you drag a hippopotamus out of the marsh ? I remember how jacks figured in my thoughts, as well as levers, helicopters, and even a rope ladder. After a lengthy consideration I admitted defeat as an engineer, and thought spitefully to myself: "Well, just let it drown!" And suddenly the hippopotamus disappeared. Went right off the chessboard just as he had come on ... of his own accord! And straightaway the position did not appear to be so complicated. Now I somehow realized that it was not possible to calculate all the variations, and that the knight sacrifice was, by its very nature, purely intuitive. And since it promised an interesting game, I could not refrain from making it."
Journalist: "And the following day, it was with pleasure that I read in the paper how Mikhail Tal, after carefully thinking over the position for 40 minutes, made an accurately-calculated piece sacrifice".
Alam mo may mahabang entry na nabubuo sa isip ko kanina, e. Pero medyo ngarag ako, kaya naisip ko, sa isip ko na lang muna siya.
Kaya kita binubulabog ngayon-- as usual-- e dahil sa tula. Nalaman ko ito dahil sa isang entry ni Annette.
Basically, may isang tula, at ipinalilibot 'yung tulang 'yun sa buong mundo, isinasalin. Tungkol ito sa pagbilanggo sa mga political dissidents ng China. At oo, may kinalaman ito sa Olympics-- dapat ibabato ang mga translation kay Hu Jintao in time for the opening. Sayang nahuli ako sa balita. Tapos na tuloy.
Teka, alam mo, talagang mas maiintindihan mo kung babasahin mo ito. Maigsi lang 'yan, kahit i-scan mo lang.
Anyway, ito 'yung tulang astig:
June Shi Tao
My whole life
Will never get past "June" June, when my heart died When my poetry died When my lover Died in romance’s pool of blood
June, the scorching sun burns open my skin Revealing the true nature of my wound June, the fish swims out of the blood-red sea Toward another place to hibernate June, the earth shifts, the rivers fall silent Piled up letters unable to be delivered to the dead
Translated to English from Chinese by Chip Rolley.
*
At heto 'yung translation ko:
Hunyo Shi Tao
Ang buong buhay ko
Ay di lalagpas ng "Hunyo" Hunyo, nang yumao ang aking puso Nang yumao ang aking mga tula Nang ang aking irog ay yumao sa isang sapa ng dugo ng pag-ibig
Hunyo, binibiyak ng nagliliyab na araw ang balat ko Binubuklat ang katotohanan ng sugat na ito Hunyo, lumalangoy ang mga isda tungo sa dagat na singpula ng dugo Tungo sa ibang lupalop upang humimbing Hunyo, kumikislot ang lupa, nananahimik ang mga ilog Natatambak ang mga liham na di maihatid sa mga yumao
Translated to Filipino from English by Mikael de Lara Co
Tara lahat tayo tara. Gawa tayong translation.
UPDATE: Nandito pala 'yung ibang mga Filipino translation.
Ayan. Habang maganda-ganda pa ang traffic dahil maraming bumabati, magpa-plug ako:
Sign-up kayo dito. Rally 'yan, virtual rally. Sign-up ka, pili kang avatar, tapos isigaw mo na "Tanggalin ang VAT sa produktong petrolyo!" Magagamit natin itong internet sa mga ganyan. Di mo pa kailangang magmartsa sa ilalim ng init ng araw.
At dahil narito ka na lang din, ipa-plug ko na rin ito. Nagko-contribute din ako diyan, at iba pang mga astig na tao. Basahin ninyo, masaya naman 'yan.
minsan, kapag sinabi kong "tangina mo world," ang ibig ko talagang sabihin, "teyngs"
Thursday, August 07, 2008
Nakikita mo 'yun bok? Hindi 'yung sumbrerong pinagsisdlan ko ng barya dahil laging kinukupitan ng mga pamangkin ko 'yung alkansya ko, a. Hindi 'yung bill ng tubig du'n sa may dulo. Hindi 'yung maraming hanger, hindi 'yung maraming libro. 'Yun. 'Yung brown na kahon na kahoy. 'Yung may nakausli na parang blue na kung-ano. Teka, ibaba natin para maaninag mo nang mabuti.
'Yan. Matagal ko nang hindi binubuksan 'yan. Halos isang taon na rin siguro. Kita mo may ali-alikabok pa. Alam mo'ng laman niyan, bok? Hindi ko naikuwento sa iyo 'yan, hindi deretsahan. Hindi rito. Pero kung nakainuman na kita, malamang alam mo. Malamang napasama ka sa malaking inuman nu'ng isang taon. Naaalala mo, bok? Tara buksan natin.
Kung mapapansin mo, napalitan ng Generoso 'yung bote ng rubbing alcohol na nasa likod kanina. Ayaw ko naman kasing isipin mo na purong isopropyl ang tinitira ko kaya ako astig at matapang at nakaka-imagine ng mga uwak na lumilipad papalayo sa ulo ko sa tuwing umaga. Wala lang.
Pero seryoso, mehn. Di ako mapagmalaking tao-- maangas, oo, pero madalas pabiro, para maiba ang usapan. Sa mga bagay na sigurado ako, siguro, sa mga paninindigan, du'n, maangas ako. Pero kung kilala mo ako, alam mong hindi ko alam kung paanong aasta pag may nagbibigay ng compliment. At di ko talaga trip na magtutok ng spotlight sa sarili ko, pagdating sa mga ganitong bagay.
Pero bok, putangina, poooooo-tangina. 'Yang nasa kahon na 'yan? Pagdating ng Setyembre a-uno, magkakaroon ng kapatid 'yan bok. Kailangan ko lang talagang sabihin sa iyo. Tingnan mo:
Pasensiya ka na. Di ko lang talaga mapigil ngayon. Patatawarin mo naman ako, di ba, kung matuwa ako? Sa atin kasi ito, e. Sa atin ito.
Sa ating mga naniniwala na puwede kang tumula habang nakikipag-inuman, na hindi laging kailangang mag-isa kang nagmumuni sa ilalim ng puno para makasulat. Sa ating mga naniniwalang 'yung hawak mo ng wika, pangalawa lang sa kung paano mo tingnan ang-- at kung paano kang kumilos sa-- mundong kinapapalooban mo. Sa ating sumisigaw minsan ng "tangina mo world," dahil natutuwa tayo, dahil ang ibig talaga nating sabihin e "tangina mo, world, astig ka, pakurot nga ng utong."
Tangina bok. Hindi ko maipapangakong maililibre kita ng beer (baka nga maubusan na ako ng load at hindi ka na rin maiteks,) o na kakasya tayong lahat sa lugar kung sa idaraos ang inuman, pero mehn, putangina. Putangina lang. Timbre-timber lang tayo pag naligaw ka sa may amin. Iinom tayo, p're. Iinom tayo.
