Balaki Ko Day

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Balaki ko ‘Day Samtang Gasakay Ta’g Habalhabal* by Adonis G. Durado Balaki ko day Samtang gasakay ta’g habalhabal. Idat-ol og samut Kanang imong dughan Nganhi sa akong bukobuko Aron mas mabatyagan ko ang hinagubtob Sa imong kasingkasing. Sa mga libaong nga atong malabyan. Gaksa ko paghugot Sama sa lastikong Mipungpong sa imong buhok. Ug sa kainit sa imong ginhawa Gitika kining akong dughan. Ang mga balili unya Nga naghalok sa ‘tong batiis Isipon tang kaugaligong mga dila. Dayon samtang nagakatulin Kining atong dagan, Mamiyong tag maghangad Ngadto sa kawanangan Aron sugaton ang taligsik Sa uwan, dahon, ug bulak. Recite to me, day, a poem while we ride a habalhabal (the blog writer’s translation) Recite to me, day A poem while we ride a habalhabal. Stick your chest closer Here on my back So that I can feel better the beatings Of your heart. With the potholes that dot our way Embrace me tightly Like the rubber bands That you use to tie your hair. And with the warmth of your breaths Tickle this heart of mine. And the amorseco That kiss our legs Let’s think of them as our own tongues. Then while we’re speeding up Our ride Let’s close our eyes and face The wide sky To meet the drizzle Of rain, leaves, and flowers. Often times when we read a text, that is to say do a critique of a poem, a short story, a play, etc, we tend to sanitize the text and try as hard as we can to distance ourselves from the spirit of, say, poem. We measure the canto, the rhyme, as well as the relevance of the figures used, but we forget the beauty that makes the poem endearing. Objectivity takes away the true joy of reading a text. (By the way, I abhor using text to mean the subject of a criticism, I prefer to call it as how it should be called: a poem, a novel, a novel, but for the sake of generalization, although I detest the word, I

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