An Dai Labot / The Unconcerned Poem by Jaime Jesus Borlagdan

Ini an mga oras
na nagsa-sign-off na an radyo.
Isipon mo an banggi sa luwas
an kadaehan na ribok
na pigaapod tang katoninungan
nagsasalak
na garo pades ki kamot
ki mag-ilusyon
nagsasaro sa sarong kaputan
na higot.

An mga turog na lawas
sa irarom kan mga atop
an bituon buda itom na langit
sa itaas ninda, kaipuhan gibuhon giraray
sa saindang turog na isip.

Buda an gabos tang hinampang
na garo may laog buda kantidad
kan an liwanag yaon pa
ngonian saro nang hewas
na an laog dai ta na kayang sabuton,
saparon. Diklom sana
buda mga harong, ogis na ilaw,
winalat kan mga turog na kadsadiri.

Aram ko igwa man
ki naghihiriro sa irarom kan diklom
sa luwas.
Pigsasabat an lipot
na garo pag-sabot buda pag-ako,
pigkukugos an sadiri, pigsasapar an sadiri.
Yaon sa luwas, sindang harayo sa imbong:
batok kan ayam, dangan arual
agrutong kan makina, pawara
parani sa harayo.

Pagnadadangog ta sinda
mas minasiram an lumoy
kan maimbong na ulunan
mas ilubong ta an sadiri
sa hibog kan tamong.

English:

This is the hour
when the radio signs off.
Think of the night outside
the noiselessness
which we call peace
combining
like lover's
pair of hands
fusing to one tight
hold.

The slumbering bodies
under the roofs
the stars and the dark sky
above them, needs to be recreated
in their sleeping minds.

And all that we have faced
which we thought had content
when the light was still here
are now one breadth
whose substance we can no longer understand,
suffer. Only the dark
and the houses, white light,
left by the sleeping owner.

I know there are also
movements beneath the darkness
outside.
Meeting the cold
like knowing and acceptance,
embracing oneself, suffering oneself.
There outside, are those away from warmth:
barking of dogs, then howling
groan of machines, fading
nearer to far away.

When we hear them
more comfy, the softness
of the warm pillow becomes
deeper to the thick sheets
ourselves we burry.