Sunday, April 14, 2013

The Man with the Hoe

After all these years, All you can remember are the songs and poems you memorized. Some hate repetitions.So I dare you, read this once and memorize. Can you? The key to perfection is repetition. Want to acquire a skill, and be a master, therefore do it repeatedly.

The Man with the Hoe by Edwin Markham
Third Year English subject
Santa Cruz Academy
Zambales, PHL
Year 1992
Teacher: Ms. Patricia Marty

http://www.vggallery.com/painting/p_0648.htm

The Man With The Hoe by Edwin Markham


Bowed by the weight of centuries he leans
Upon his hoe and gazes on the ground,
The emptiness of ages in his face,
And on his back the burden of the world.
Who made him dead to rapture and despair,
A thing that grieves not and that never hopes.
Stolid and stunned, a brother to the ox?
Who loosened and let down this brutal jaw?
Whose was the hand that slanted back this brow?
Whose breath blew out the light within this brain?

Is this the Thing the Lord God made and gave
To have dominion over sea and land;
To trace the stars and search the heavens for power;
To feel the passion of Eternity?
Is this the Dream He dreamed who shaped the suns
And marked their ways upon the ancient deep?
Down all the stretch of Hell to its last gulf
There is no shape more terrible than this —
More tongued with censure of the world's blind greed —
More filled with signs and portents for the soul —
More fraught with menace to the universe.

What gulfs between him and the seraphim!
Slave of the wheel of labor, what to him
Are Plato and the swing of Pleiades?
What the long reaches of the peaks of song,
The rift of dawn, the reddening of the rose?
Through this dread shape the suffering ages look;
Time's tragedy is in the aching stoop;
Through this dread shape humanity betrayed,
Plundered, profaned, and disinherited,
Cries protest to the Powers that made the world.
A protest that is also a prophecy.

O masters, lords and rulers in all lands,
Is this the handiwork you give to God,
This monstrous thing distorted and soul-quenched?
How will you ever straighten up this shape;
Touch it again with immortality;
Give back the upward looking and the light;
Rebuild in it the music and the dream,
Make right the immemorial infamies,
Perfidious wrongs, immedicable woes?

O masters, lords and rulers in all lands
How will the Future reckon with this Man?
How answer his brute question in that hour
When whirlwinds of rebellion shake all shores?
How will it be with kingdoms and with kings —
With those who shaped him to the thing he is —
When this dumb Terror shall rise to judge the world.
After the silence of the centuries?



Life was hard, love was easy

Magdalena does not know when Julian will die, but she knows it is soon. It is a constant awareness. There is no forgetting it. Maybe it will take months. Maybe years. She does not know, but she is certain she will be left alone. She is glad she found him, glad she loved him, and when the last of his sunsets are gone, she will wait under the tarp of a tent that hunkers square across the sea, for all the other sunsets that he will miss while she misses him. - Rappler.com


Life was hard, love was easy
Patricia Evangelista and Carlo Gabuco
Life was hard, Love was Easy

Saturday, April 13, 2013

Blonde and Blue Eyes


Pinay wins it big in London
 
By Alfred Yuson
The Philippine Star 05/16/2004
 

Patricia Evangelista, a 19-year-old, Mass Communications sophomore of University of the Philippines(UP)-Diliman, did the country proud Friday night by besting 59 other student contestants from 37 countries in the 2004 International Public Speaking competition conducted by the English Speaking Union (ESU) in London.

She triumphed over a field of exactly 60 speakers from all over the English-speaking world, including the United States, United Kingdom and Australia, reported Maranan.

The board of judges‚ decision was unanimous, according to contest chairman Brian Hanharan of the British Broadcasting Corp. (BBC).

 

PATRICIA'S SHORT SPEECH WORTH READING....

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
 

BLONDE AND BLUE EYES
 

When I was little, I wanted what many Filipino¬?children all over the country wanted. I wanted to be blond, blue-eyed, and white.

I thought -- if I just wished hard enough and was good enough, I'd wake up on Christmas morning with snow outside my window and freckles across my nose!

More than four centuries under western domination does that to you. I have sixteen cousins. In a couple of years, there will just be five of us left in the Philippines, the rest will have gone abroad in search of "greener pastures." It's not just an anomaly; it's a trend;  the Filipino diaspora. Today, about eight million Filipinos are scattered around the world.


There are those who disapprove of Filipinos who choose to leave. I used to. Maybe this is a natural reaction of someone who was left behind, smiling for family pictures that get emptier with each succeeding year. Desertion, I called it. My country is a land that has perpetually fought for the freedom to be itself.Our heroes offered  their lives in the struggle against the Spanish,the Japanese, the Americans. To pack up and deny that identity is tantamount to spitting on that sacrifice.

Or is it? I don't think so, not anymore. True, there is no denying this phenomenon, aided by the fact that what was once the other side of the world is now a twelve-hour plane ride away. But this is a borderless world, where no individual can claim to be purely from where¬he is now.  My mother is of Chinese descent, my father is a quarter Spanish, and I call myself a pure Filipino-a hybrid of sorts resulting from a combination of cultures.

Each square mile anywhere in the world is made up of people of different ethnicities, with national identities and individual personalities. Because of this, each square mile is already a microcosm of the world. In as much as this blessed spot that is England is the world, so is my neighborhood back home.

Seen this way, the Filipino Diaspora, or any sort of dispersal of populations, is not as ominous as so many claim. It must be understood. I come from a Third World country, one that is still trying mightily to get back on its feet after many years of dictatorship. But we shall make it, given more time. Especially now, when we have thousands of eager young minds who graduate from college every year. They have skills. They need jobs. We cannot absorb them all.

A borderless world presents a bigger opportunity, yet one that is not so much abandonment but an extension of identity. Even as we take, we give back. We are the 40,000 skilled nurses who support the UK's National Health Service. We are the quarter-of-a-million seafarers manning most of the world's commercial ships.We are your software engineers in Ireland, your construction
workers in the Middle East, your doctors and caregivers in North America, and, your musical artists in London's West End.
 

Nationalism isn't bound by time or place. People from other nations migrate to create new nations, yet still remain essentially who they are. British society is itself an example of a multi-cultural nation, a melting pot of races, religions,arts and cultures. We are, indeed, in a borderless world!

Leaving sometimes isn't a matter of choice. It's coming back that is. The Hobbits of the shire traveled all over Middle-Earth, but they chose to come home, richer in every sense of the word. We call people like these balikbayans or the 'returnees'-- those who followed their dream, yet choose to return and share their mature talents and good fortune.

In a few years, I may take advantage of whatever opportunities come my way. But I will come home. A borderless world doesn't preclude the idea of a home. I'm a Filipino, and I'll always be one. It isn't about just geography; it isn't about boundaries. It's about giving back to the country that shaped me.

And that's going to be more important to me than seeing snow outside my windows on a bright Christmas morning.

Mabuhay. and Thank you.





 

Wednesday, April 10, 2013

Infected for Life


O amor é uma doença da qual ninguém quer se livrar. Todo mundo está satisfeito com o virus...
 (Manuscrito encontrado em Accra)
Love is a disease that no one wants to get rid of. Everyone is pleased with the virus ...
 (Manuscript found in Accra)

No available vaccine.No cure. Carrier state and contagious for life. I'd rather have the "Love Disease" than wondering all the what ifs. It's a risk worth taking.

Wednesday, April 03, 2013

Just in time for Sunset (preview)

Life at the Dasol Bay, with the salambaw -a way of catching school of fishes using fish nets and A Marine Banca for deep sea fishing plus of course a romantic sunset.
Almost a year...I was asked the most difficult question in relation to Sunset.If asked the same question at this time, my answer is still the same.Deo Gratias!