<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=484815" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Poem By Merlie Alunan</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Fallen in battle in the mountains of Santa Catalina, Negros Oriental,1987 A.D., a hill warrior talks to his daughter, three years old, from the trail where his bones lie unburied</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Sure I had them in my backpack, <br>the piyaya, just as i had promised, <br>and the baye-baye from 'Nay Asyon.<br>She was asking about<br>the grandchild she'd never seen.<br>Also a comb for your mother.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The road from Siaton blew up.<br>Crossing the valley to our hut<br>to see you for the last time, <br>I left no footprints anyone could find.<br>So many things I couldn't<br>bring with me- my gun, my boots, <br>left behind forever in the hidden trail.<br>Unseen, I watched your mother<br>waiting while you slept, <br>combing her hair by the gaslight<br>with slow patient fingers.<br>If they ever come<br>and cut your mother's hair<br>and bind her to bed, <br>run and hide.<br>Whatever you see, do not cry.<br>You will grow up, little one, <br>bearer of this vicious bond-</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>anger of your daughters, <br>revenge of your sons.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">posted by merlie alunan @ 2: 05 AM</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Ric+S.+Bastasa">Ric S. Bastasa</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=484815" data-title="A Poem By Merlie Alunan de Ric S. Bastasa" data-description="Fallen in battle in the mountains of Santa Catalina, Negros Oriental,1987 A.D., a hill warrior talks to his daughter, three years old, from the trail where his bones lie unburied Sure I had them in my backpack, the piyaya, just as i had promise..."></div> </div> </div>

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