Archive for November 3rd, 2009

Lyrics Translation: Jennifer Paige, “Crush”

Lyrics Translation: Jennifer Paige, “Crush”

I hate my last song syndromes.  Just because I feel like it:

Paghanga Lang

Jennifer Paige, “Crush”

Ahhh… kras… ahhh…

Sa hangin ka pa humalik
Di kailangang magsaliksik
Para maintindihan ang nangyayari sa atin

Kung sakin may nakikita
Huwag mo nang pag-isipan pa
Huwag ka nang magpalalim, giliw

Kung ganyan, hayaan lang
Kunwari pang baliw na baliw sa akin
Eto ang aking gagawin
Tadhana na tayong pagtatagpuin

Ito’y paghanga lang
May malay pa rin, kahit tayo’y maghaplusan
Konting bagay lang yan
Di lahat ng gagawin ko ay para sa iyo

Sha-la-la-la, sha-la-la-la

Ako ay kakaba-kaba
Katok mo’y sa pusong lata
Wag mo nang gawing balita pa giliw
Sabi mo, “Kahit kailan”
Di ko naman hinanap iyan
Kaya ko lang siguro ay “pwede”

Kung ganyan, hayaan lang
Kunwari pang baliw na baliw sa akin
Eto ang aking gagawin
Tadhana na tayong pagtatagpuin

Ito’y paghanga lang
May malay pa rin, kahit tayo’y maghaplusan
Konting bagay lang yan
Di lahat ng gagawin ko ay para sa iyo
Sha-la-la-la, sha-la-la-la

Banilyang kalawakan
Sa iyong mata’y puting bakuran
Tayong dalawa pa rin

Ito’y paghanga lang
May malay pa rin, kahit tayo’y maghaplusan
Konting bagay lang yan
Di lahat ng gagawin ko ay para sa iyo

Sha-la-la-la, sha-la-la-la
May malay pa rin, kahit tayo’y maghaplusan
Konting bagay lang yan
Di lahat ng gagawin ko ay para sa iyo

Sha-la-la-la, sha-la-la-la
May malay pa rin, kahit tayo’y maghaplusan
Konting bagay lang yan
Di lahat ng gagawin ko ay para sa iyo

November 3, 2009 0 comments Read More
Azucarera

Azucarera

With a deft stroke of the machete, the kid cut the sugarcane and split it lengthwise.  With a few more strokes, the segment was split into fibers which he handed to us.  Pantawid-gutom, tanggal pagod na rin. We were on our way to some of the shanties that stood between the farmers of Hacienda Luisita and the soldiers from nearby Camp Aquino.  For the lot of us, it was two things: basic masses integration, and gathering facts for a news story.

I’ve only had fresh sugarcane once before, and my gums bled from a day of not brushing and smoking cheap Champion cigarettes.  My unwashed hair whipped into my mouth, smelling of the Sun and the sweat that built up from the trek.  It was a rather telling – chilling – metaphor that I can still remember years after we helped cover the story of the Hacienda Luisita Massacre: the sweetness of the sugar was only made possible by the blood of workers and farmers.

November 3, 2009 3 comments Read More