To The Writers

(Poem)

you, you who cohabit with the pen

where really are you going?

look far beyond the window of your soul

and pierce with your eyes

the wall of misery and despair

look inside every room

of palaces and mansions

and learn to dissect

intestines and biles

you, who thinks as a writer

must enlighten yourself

with the wounded images

on the canvass of life

gloomy eyes gazing at a scoop of rice

bitter lips salivating

for an imaginary slice of meat

on a table street

of gaunt cheeks

of scrawny fingers

and tattered shoes

and palms blistered by servitude

once you squeeze

the bitternes and grief

of scraggy hands

once you feel the message

of the raindrops on the nipa roof

once you understand

the beads dropping on the bamboo floor

once you grieve over

the oil and grease that sting the eyes

the wriggling veins of thinning arms

the blood spilling on streets

mountains and barren fields

then and only then

realize you will

the blazing road to trek

you as a writer

of glaring realities

you as the conscience

of an oppressed race

must heroically tread

the welcoming path

of freedom and glory

for your beloved land!

(modified English version by EMMANUEL V. DUMLAO of my SA MGA MANUNULAT)