Classmates called us the triangulo
at the old Institute of Law,
Far Eastern University,
Class Nineteen One and Seventy.
From Boac you were, Fernando,
from Misamis you came, Claro,
tried to stand out, though not tall,
we vowed all for one, one for all.
Still we three were companions,
took the Bar examinations,
Lady Luck seemed to have been foiled,
the tests, dear Fernando, you failed.
We grieved so much, but egged on you
to take the lawyer’s tests anew,
you agreed, but as they drew near
life you lost to a thrill-killer.
Life went on for me and Claro,
part from each other we did go,
lawyer, newsman he did the twain
until a gunman did him in.
I went to far away Davao,
seek greener pasture was my vow,
prosecutor’s job I have had,
a legal work I did so glad.
Two years, thereafter, I resigned,
law practice I was more inclined,
joined an office, old in the trade,
where little fortune I have made.
Once, as out from office, I came,
a man I knew not by his name,
drew his gun, to me he pointed,
but heard a noise and retreated.
That could have been my fateful turn,
in my heart the fear does still churn,
but, by the bond that we kept well,
I feel God, you ask, guards my weal.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
good writing, I like it, thanks.