I Am A Singer
by Luis G. Dato I am a singer of strange forgetfulness.Song in my lips, but in my heart a wound;I am the bruised bird, singer of the evening,Which morning finds, wing-shattered, on the ground.
Luis G. Dato
Filipino Poet, Writer and Educator
Tag art
Luis G. Dato’s pieces on Arts
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XXXVI CHIAROSCURO AT DAWN
by Luis G. Dato I love the chiaroscuro of the dawn, When day lies hushed as in some catacomb Without its gold, the night without its gloom; On the horizon, each a smoking cone, Loom the dark hills, and clouds,…
THE SWALLOW
By Luis G. Dato Little, lone swallow frequenting the skies in the bleakness of oncoming rain, Gloating on the view by the river reflected when days of sun reappear, You who can sing in the fullness of sorrow, and in…
THE ROADS AT NIGHT
By Luis G. Dato A cruelty and tumult fill the cities, They roar with gasping breath, And thunder beats upon the pavement, Thunder that came from death. The stranger’s heart at even-tide is lonely, But weary must he roam, As…
VERSE AND THE BALLET
By Luis G. Dato Movement, there’s buoyant movement in the dance, A grace and gay abandon, gift divine, And as we view it we fall in a trance Like one drunk of some rare, exotic wine. And we behold the…
ON SCHUBERT’S SERENADE
By Luis G. Dato In days of old, one moonlight night, When young was life and earth and art, A lover asked his friend to write A song to win a fair one’s heart. The outcome the world knows so…
WAGES
By Luis G. Dato Leaves on the ground, Boughs by the zephyrs in ecstasy dropped, Vines looking up At the trunk they had clung to but lately, Till the breezes came their way… They are scattered and helpless, Wistful of…
OFFERING TO ART
By Luis G. Dato Before you rise the portals of your glory, The marble moulded to your artifice Your eyes survey the vistas of your triumph, Your dim, unseeing eyes. The multitude to strains harmonious hearkens As to forgotten music…
KUNDIMAN
By Luis G. Dato I know not if the songs that from you rise, Are tuned to pain or mirth, They are, it seems, some compromise Of sky and earth. For from the throat of mortals such as we, The…
SONNET
By Luis G. Dato Whyfore must minstrels unattended sing, And warble songs but little understood? The shy doves coo their music to the wood And wild, as soon the answering echoes ring; Perfumed flowers impetuously will fling Such exhalations like…
ART
By Luis G. Dato Your unseen fingers of the night have spun Auroral flowers that surprise, Clouds petalled red against the sun, And scarlet with sunrise. Last night a terror crept within my heart With every gust of sudden rain,…
