Who links to me? the journal of a semi-insane man: July 2007

Tuesday, July 17, 2007

For Ana Escalante Neri

I was looking forward to meeting the Ana Escalante Neri, her poems, her photos, her stories. I believe she was at Iyas one year before me and I didn't make it to Dumaguete. Something about her fascinated me, something about the stories about her made me wanna meet her. Everytime there is talk of diving, i remember her stories about the sea, her beautiful photos. Her pictures of her Dumaguete fellows make me regret that I missed that workshop that year. They are beautiful and looking at a group of young writers having a blast made me green with envy. I am pleasantly surprised by the number of people, who like me, didn't know her personally, and yet was touched by her in a profound way. She had good poetry inside her and its such a tragedy to have lost her at such a young age. Its sad to hear that she was battling depression despite being so full of life. Maybe that's why her portraits seem so mysterious, a certain depth behind her beautiful face that we see, we feel, unfathomable, dark, mysterious, and yet there she is in a picture, almost palpable.


I know Ana from other people. from the stuff written by her and about her. And yet it feels like we have been friends all our lives. Deep in the back of my head, I am thinking that maybe anti-depressants instead of homeopathy would have been a better treatment for her. But all is lost, what is lost cannot be regained. I will miss the opportunity to meet Ana again, but maybe in some other place, in a place called heaven, which may actually be the bottom of a wide sea or an expanse of sky. maybe there she and I will meet and be friends.


Sa mga nagakalamatay nga lamharon nga mga manugdilambong
(Para kay Ana)

Indi ko pagbuksan ang akon nga ginatagu-an sang mga balatyagon.
Ang ini gintigana ko na sang kamatayon sang akon mga kapamilya.

Por ehemplo, ining luha,
Ining asin nga halin sa mga mata nga magaluha kung pagabalikan sang asin.
Indi ko guid pagbuksan.

Indi, Dili guid.

Imo nga ginsuroy ang maasin nga kadagaton,
Kag sa kaidadaluman sang sining mga madulom nga bahin
imo ginbuksan ang imo mga mata.

Sa subung nga maga tinion, wala mo madala ang imo kamera.
Sa subung nga katigayonan, imo nabilin ang pluma
Wala ka nakasuksuk sang panapton pangsuyod sang mga kabalasan kag ang antipara pangdagat.

Indi mo kami buot masugiran kung
Anu ayhan ang imo mga nakita,
Kung ikaw ayhan nagaluha
Samtang ang asin nagasulod sa imo mga mata
Dira sa mga bahin nga indi ka namon masundan.

Halin sa malayo, isa lamang ako ka manuglantaw,
samtang ikaw nagalutaw kag nagakapaykapay.

Sa akon lang, ang imo mga kamot nga daw kapay sang kaisdaan,
daw nangin pakpak sa kalangitan nga nakapaslak sa kadagatang
ikaw ang may kahimuan.

Indi ako magpatulo sang luha, pero nagasakit ang akon kasingkasing,
nagapait ang akon mga mata, nagapin-ut ang akun dughan,
ang akun ulo daw mabuka.

Ang paguntat sang hilibion gali pareho man sa paglumus
Sa mga kaidadalman
Sang sining mapait nga kadagatan.


For the dying young poets
(For Ana)

I will resist opening my safe where I keep my wailings
These I already reserve for the future deaths of my own family.

For example, these tears,
These drops of salt from eyes which would flow with tears when whisked with salt.
I resist opening it.

I will not, I will not.

You scoured the salty seas
And in the deepest of these dark parts
You opened your eyes.

Only this time, you didn’t have your camera,
Only this time, you left your pen,
And you were not in your dive gear meant for combing the sandy floors and no diving mask.

And so you couldn’t tell us
Whatever it is you are seeing,
If ever you are crying,
While the sea’s salts sting your eyes
In those parts we couldn’t swim after you.

From afar, I was a bywatcher
While you float and you paddle.

For me, your arms that were like fins of fishes
Became like wings in the heavenly carpet reflected in the sea
Of your own creation.

Resist, I will, the coming of tears, but my very heart is aching
My eyes sting, and my chest is tightened,
My head feels like breaking apart.

Stopping one’s tears, I realized, is actually like drowning
In the depths
Of these salty seas.