By Luis G. Dato
By frowning hills and mountains Nippon has
Builded her eyries dyed with innocent blood,
She soared above the raging ocean’s flood,
To light on corpses bared by rain and grass
Those cliffs to us are holy, but alas!
With swoop and circle o ‘ er the embattled wood,
Her eagles soar where once to death men stood,
And where foes passed not, now the sun flags pass.
Oh, Tirad, deep down under you lie cold
The sentinels who fell to truceless night,
They groan anew when o’er you they behold
The vultures in their proud, imperial flight,
Some embers moulder of the impulse bold
That rose here once, and passed in flames to night.