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Mga Itim na Tagapagbando


Mga Itim na Tagapagbando

Kayraming kasakit ng buhay, marubdob... hindi ko batid!
Mga hampas na animo’y ngitngit ng langit; kung haharapin,
ay tila ragasa ng lahat ng pagdurusang
bumubukal sa kaibuturan ng diwa... hindi ko batid!

Sila’y katiting lamang, subalit... Binubuksan nito ang maitim na trensera
nang mababangis na hulagway at pinakamatitikas na gulugod.
Marahil, sila ang mga bisiro ng mga barbaro
o itim na tagapagbando ni Kamatayan.

Sila ang matatarik na talon sa kaluluwa ng mga kristo,
na sumamba sa nilapastangang Kapalaran.
Iyang mga hampas na tigmak ng dugo ay hagupit ng
nagbabagang tinapay na nalulusaw sa pugon.

At ang sangkatauhan... Kalunos-lunos... kaawa-awa! Ibinaling niya ang paningin,
mistulang tumutugon sa isang tapik sa balikat;
itinitig ang nauulol na mata, at ang buod ng kaniyang buhay
ay sumilay, animo’y lawa ng kasalanan, sa kaniyang gunita.

Kayraming kasakit ng buhay, marubdob... hindi ko batid!

Salin ni Jay Pascual
July 21, 2011


The Black Heralds


There are blows in life, so powerful . . . I don’t know!
Blows as from the hatred of God; as if, facing them,
the undertow of everything suffered
welled up in the soul . . . I don’t know!


They are few; but they are . . . They open dark trenches
in the fiercest face and in the strongest back.
Perhaps they are the colts of barbaric Attilas;
or the black heralds sent to us by Death.


They are the deep falls of the Christs of the soul,
of some adored faith blasphemed by Destiny.
Those bloodstained blows are the crackling of
bread burning up at the oven door.


And man . . . Poor . . . poor! He turns his eyes, as
when a slap on the shoulder summons us;
turns his crazed eyes, and everything lived
wells up, like a pool of guilt, in his look.


There are blows in life, so powerful . . . I don’t know!

--César Vallejo (Peru)

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