HOME
By Luis G. Dato High on the banks of a river, Green-crowned with many a vine, Far though I bide in vision, I see the home of mine. The swallows round its window Fly down and round again, When, from…
Tag Places
MY HOME
By Luis G. Dato Up by a leaping stream, And cradled ‘neath a hill, The hallowed moments seem Eternity of thrill. Over the roof cadenas creep, Soft grasses clothe the lawn, Which in the twilight weep With waiting for the…
MALOLOS
by Luis G. Dato The town is quiet, the houses still, And the dark house of God, The heroes slumber up the hill, And in my heart, their blood. Again I see a gay procession, And men in bright attire,…
RETURN TO BATAAN
by Luis G. Dato Above Bataan warplanes soar, Relentlessly the cannons roar From smoking cliffs to ships off-shore, A roof of bombs, a ring of flame; Corregidor’s a blur behind, An army there will cover find, Bataan stands, and then…
SENTRY OF ZAPOTE
By Luis G. Dato Across the moonless meadows I make a sudden flight, Up hills and down the valleys of immemorial death, My throbbing heart remeasures my stallion’s labored breath, I stand upon Zapote this hour of near midnight. I…
TIRAD PASS
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,…
TRAFFIC
By Luis G. Dato Shouting in the sky-walled air.The rig-driver’s voice is husky and his throat is hoarse with yelling and shouting in the sky walled-air.He jerks the flesh-cutting reins and he dangles the sharp, blood-dripping lash.The horse is hungry.The legs…
MANILA
By Luis G. Dato Manila is a woman smiling through a mask of paint,Breasts irradiant with cosmic challengesAnd invitations to the rivers and the meadows of the explorable infinite,An urgency at an intersectionWith a clique of clubbing ruffians from behind.…
THE CITY
By Luis G. Dato Here in the grass grows not longerThe eye to soothe, tired feet to cool –For hills are blocks and masonry,For lake exiguous swimming pool. There are no haunts – around the cornerDeath gasps in screeching brakesOr…
INTRAMUROS
By Luis G. Dato Out where the wild vines spreadUpon the winding walls,I hear old madrigalsAnd music from the dead. There the grasses hangTheir canopy of leaves,Which oft at dawn receivesMatins the mayas sang. Where peace holds swaysOn mounted mossy…
