by Luis G. Dato

O radiant royal beauty,
It is a pleasant duty
To praise you to the skies;
I deem no greater pleasure
Than lauding in rimed measure
Your reign which we all treasure,
Though time forgets and flies.

From near and far-off places,
Come friendly and strange faces,
As by some magnet drawn,
It matters not what region,
They come, a countless legion,
Inflamed by one ‘religion
Of fealty to your throne.

And this, to our great glory,
In legend, song, and story,
Is custom of our race;
For Beauty love unending
With worship ever blending,
No time has power of rending,
From our soul to efface.

They come to your dominions
Where doves of Peace, their pinions
Outspread in gracious flight;
Here life’s a dream forever,
And enmity dwells never,
And nothing comes to sever
The bonds that men unite.

Here grow green trees fruit-laden,
To gladden swain and maiden
Who tryst beneath their shade,
Like harps the bamboos bending
To winds that blow unending,
Till night at last descending,
They in their dreams are laid.

And here when day reposes
In sweetest scent of roses,
Youth sings his serenade;
And whose ever wishes
For moonlight dreams and kisses,
Finds sooner what he misses,
In loves that do not fade.

However far we drifted,
Here ever for us lifted,
Are gates to fresh delight,
However deep our sorrow,
Who seeks will always borrow
The promise of the marrow,
Dark howsoe’er the night.

Beneath these restful bowers,
Where bloom the rural flowers
Of diverse scent and hue,
The heart with hope up springing
Hears bells portentous ringing,
More blissful seasons bringing
To this your people true.

Here at the rural sources,
Spring life and the resource,
Which make a nation great,
The President has spoken,
The lethargy is broken,
And all the signs betoken
For us a better fate.

Therefore, fair queen, the portal
Of joys and bliss immortal
Waits at your gracious hand,
May this your coronation,
Serve as the inspiration
To lead a loyal nation
Into the promised land.

What rose than you get brighter
To make our footsteps lighter
Through peace and all the wars?
What smiles than yours more tender,
What grace of form s0 slender
To make the heart surrender
Under the glorious stars?

To you the crown we tender,
And homage to you render
In brightest gems and flowers.
And though the world be sadness,
Or though it turn to gladness
It would be supreme madness
To miss these royal bowers.

And as the poets olden
Their lyre would oft embolden
With sight of their queen fair,
So you in us the ember
Of romance rouse from slumber,
We shall for long remember
With you these moments rare.

Luis Dato
Luis Dato

Luis G. Dato (July 4, 1906 - January 29, 1985) was a poet, writer and educator from Sta. Cruz, Baao, Camarines Sur. He published books in English including Manila A Collection of verse (1926), My Book of Verses (1936) and the Land of Mai in 1975. He also wrote several books and text in Bikol such as, Vocabulario Bikol-Ingles-Kastila (1963), Cantahon na Bikol (1969), Morfologia kan Tataramon na Bikol (serialized in Naga Times), Patotodon sa Bikol (Bikol Mail) and Sarabihon sa Bikol.

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