Updates from June, 2008 Hide threads | Keyboard Shortcuts

  • International Thanksgiving 2nd Quarter 2008 Praise Songs 

    romacknatividad 1:07 am on June 13, 2008 Permalink | Reply

    Psalms 92:1 MKJV

    It is good to give thanks to the Lord, And to sing praises to Your name, O Most High

    Praise be to God! FOREVER!

    International Thanksgiving 2nd Quarter 2008

    Song for the whole Congregation

    http://mirror1. services. angdatingdaan. net:8080/ PBK-JULY- 5-6-2008- Awit-ng-buong- kapatiran1. zip (audio &lyrics)

    Workers

    http://mirror1. services. angdatingdaan. net:8080/ PBK-Jul5- 6-2008-WORKERSso ng.zip

    KKTK

    http://mirror1. services. angdatingdaan. net:8080/ (not yet available)

    KNC

    http://mirror1. services. angdatingdaan. net:8080/ (not yet available)

    Foreign Ministry

    http://mirror1. services. angdatingdaan. net:8080/ PBK-Jul5- 6-2008-FOREIGNso ng.zip (audio &lyrics)

    Luzon Region

    http://mirror1. services. angdatingdaan. net:8080/ PBK-Jul5- 6-2008-LUZONsong .zip

    Visayas Region

    http://mirror1. services. angdatingdaan. net:8080/ PBK-Jul5- 6-2008-VISAYAson g.zip

    Mindanao Region

    http://mirror1. services. angdatingdaan. net:8080/ PBK-Jul5- 6-2008-MINDANAOs ong.zip

    LYRICS

    PBK 2ND QUARTER – lyrics (notepad)

     
  • Jose Rizal’s last poem 

    romacknatividad 3:25 pm on June 10, 2008 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: Jose Rizal, Patriot, Philippines

    My Last Farewell (translation adapted from one by Edwin Lozada)
    Farewell, beloved Country, treasured region of the sun,
    Pearl of the sea of the Orient, our vanquished Eden!
    To you I gladly surrender this melancholy life;
    And were it brighter, fresher, gaudier,
    Even then I’d give it to you, to you alone would then I give.
    In fields of battle, deliriously fighting,
    Others give you their lives, without doubt, without regret;
    Where there’s cypress, laurel or lily,
    On a plank or open field, in combat or cruel martyrdom,
    If the home or country asks, it’s all the same–it matters not.
    I die when I see the sky unfurls its colors
    And at last after a cloak of darkness announces the day;
    If you need scarlet to tint your dawn,
    Paint with my blood, pour it as the moment comes,
    And may it be gilded by a reflection of the heaven’s new-born light.
    My dreams, even as a child,
    My dreams, when a young man in the prime of life,
    Were to see you one day, jewel of the eastern seas,
    Dry those dark eyes, raise that forehead high,
    Without frown, without wrinkle, without stain of shame.
    My lifelong dream, my deep burning desire,
    Is for this soul that will soon depart to cry out: Salud!
    To your health! Oh how beautiful to fall to give you flight,
    To die to give you life, to rest under your sky,
    And in your enchanted land forever sleep.
    If upon my grave one day you may behold,
    Amidst the dense grass, a simple lowly flower,
    Place it upon your lips, and my soul you’ll kiss,
    And on my brow may I feel, under the cold tomb,
    The tenderness of your touch, the warmth of your breath.
    Let the moon see me in soft and tranquil light,
    Let the dawn burst forth its fleeting radiance,
    Let the wind moan with its gentle murmur,
    And should a bird descend and rest on my cross,
    Let it sing its canticle of peace.
    Let the burning sun evaporate the rain,
    And with the struggle behind, towards the sky may they turn pure;
    Let a friend mourn my early demise,
    And in the serene afternoon, when someone prays for me,
    O Country, pray that God will also grant me rest!
    Pray for all the unfortunate ones who died,
    For all who suffered torment unequaled,
    For grieving mothers who in bitterness cry,
    For orphans and widows, for prisoners in torture,
    And for yourself to see your redemption at last.
    And when the burial ground is shrouded in dark night,
    And there alone, only the departed remain in vigil,
    Disturb not their rest, nor their secrets,
    And should you hear chords from a zither or harp,
    ‘Tis I, O land beloved, ’tis I, to you I sing !
    And when my grave, then by all forgotten,
    has not a cross nor stone to mark its place,
    Let men plow and with a spade disperse it,
    And before my ashes return to nothing,
    May they be the dust that carpets your fields.
    Then nothing matters, cast me in oblivion.
    Your air, your space, your valleys I will cross.
    I will be vibrant music to your ears,
    Aroma, light, colors, murmur, moan, and song,
    Ever echoing the essence of my faith.
    Land that I love, sorrow of my sorrows,
    Adored Filipinas, hear my last good-bye.
    There I leave you all, my parents, my beloved.
    I go where there are no slaves, hangmen nor oppressors,
    Where faith does not kill, where the one who reigns is God.
    Goodbye, dear parents, brother and sisters, fragments of my soul,
    Childhood friends in the home now gone,
    Give thanks that I rest from this wearisome day;
    Goodbye, sweet stranger, my friend, my joy;
    Farewell, loved ones. To die is to rest.
    ——————–
    PAHIMAKAS (translation by Philippine hero, Andrés Bonifacio)
    Pinipintuho kong Bayan ay paalam,
    Lupang iniirog ng sikat ng araw,
    mutyang mahalaga sa dagat Silangan,
    kaluwalhatiang sa ami’y pumanaw.
    Masayang sa iyo’y aking idudulot
    ang lanta kong buhay na lubhang malungkot;
    maging maringal man at labis alindog
    sa kagalingan mo ay aking ding handog.
    Sa pakikidigma at pamimiyapis
    ang alay ng iba’y ang buhay na kipkip,
    walang agam-agam, maluag sa dibdib,
    matamis sa puso at di ikahapis.
    Saan man mautas ay dikailangan,
    cipres o laurel, lirio ma’y patungan
    pakikipaghamok, at ang bibitayan,
    yaon ay gayon din kung hiling ng Bayan.
    Ako’y mamamatay, ngayong namamalas
    na sa silinganan ay namamanaag
    yaong maligayang araw na sisikat
    sa likod ng luksang nagtabing na ulap.
    Ang kulay na pula kung kinakailangan
    na maitina sa iyong liwayway,
    dugo ko’y isabong at siyang ikinang
    ng kislap ng iyong maningning na ilaw
    Ang aking adhika sapul magkaisip
    ng kasalukuyang bata pang maliit,
    ay ang tanghaling ka at minsan masilip
    sa dagat Silangan hiyas na marikit.
    Natuyo ang luhang sa mata’y nunukal,
    taas na ang noo’t walang kapootan,
    walang bakas kunot ng kapighatian
    gabahid man dungis niyong kahihiyan.
    Sa kabuhayang ko ang laging gunita
    maningas na aking ninanasa-nasa
    ay guminhawa ka ang hiyas ng diwa
    pag hingang papanaw ngayong biglang-bigla.
    Ikaw’y guminhawa laking kagandahang
    akoy malugmok, at ikaw ay matanghal,
    hiniga’y malagot, mabuhay ka lamang
    bangkay ko’y masilong sa iyong Kalangitan.
    Kung sa libingan ko’y tumubong mamalas
    sa malagong damo mahinhing bulaklak,
    sa mga labi mo’y mangyayaring itapat,
    sa kaluluwa ko hatik ay igawad.
    At sa aking noo nawa’y iparamdam,
    sa lamig ng lupa ng aking libingan,
    ang init ng iyong paghingang dalisay
    at simoy ng iyong paggiliw na tunay.
    Bayaang ang buwan sa aki’y ititig
    ang liwanag niyang lamlam at tahimik,
    liwayway bayaang sa aki’y ihatid
    magalaw na sinag at hanging hagibis.
    Kung sakasakaling bumabang humantong
    sa krus ko’y dumapo kahit isang ibon
    doon ay bayaan humuning hinahon
    at dalitin niya payapang panahon.
    Bayaan ang ningas ng sikat ng araw
    ula’y pasingawin noong kainitan,
    magbalik sa langit ng boong dalisay
    kalakip ng aking pagdaing na hiyaw.
    Bayaang sino man sa katotang giliw
    tangisang maagang sa buhay pagkitil;
    kung tungkol sa akin ay may manalangin
    idalangin, Bayan, yaring pagka himbing.
    Idalanging lahat yaong nangamatay,
    mangagatiis hirap na walang kapantay;
    mga ina naming walang kapalaran
    na inihihibik ay kapighatian.
    Ang mga bao’t pinapangulila,
    ang mga bilanggong nagsisipagdusa;
    dalanginin namang kanilang makita
    ang kalayaan mong, ikagiginhawa.
    At kung an madilim na gabing mapanglaw
    ay lumaganap na doon sa libinga’t
    tanging mga patay ang nangaglalamay,
    huwag bagabagin ang katahimikan.
    Ang kanyang hiwagay huwag gambalain;
    kaipala’y maringig doon ang taginting,
    tunog ng gitara’t salterio’y mag saliw,
    ako, Bayan yao’t kita’y aawitin.
    Kung ang libingan ko’y limot na ng lahat
    at wala ng kurus at batang mabakas,
    bayaang linangin ng taong masipag,
    lupa’y asarolin at kauyang ikalat.
    At mga buto ko ay bago matunaw
    mauwi sa wala at kusang maparam,
    alabok ng iyong latag ay bayaang
    siya ang babalang doo’y makipisan.
    Kung magka gayon na’y aalintanahin
    na ako sa limot iyong ihabilin
    pagka’t himpapawid at ang panganorin
    mga lansangan mo’y aking lilibutins.
    Matining na tunog ako sa dingig mo,
    ilaw, mga kulay, masamyong pabango,
    ang ugong at awit, pag hibik sa iyo,
    pag asang dalisay ng pananalig ko.
    Bayang iniirog, sakit niyaring hirap,
    Katagalugang ko pinakaliliyag,
    dinggin mo ang aking pagpapahimakas;
    diya’y iiwan ko sa iyo ang lahat.
    Ako’y patutungo sa walang busabos,
    walang umiinis at berdugong hayop;
    pananalig doo’y di nakasasalot,
    si Bathala lamang dooy haring lubos.
    Paalam, magulang at mga kapatid
    kapilas ng aking kaluluwa’t dibdib
    mga kaibigan bata pang maliit
    sa aking tahanan di na masisilip.
    Pag pasasalamat at napahinga rin,
    paalam estranherang kasuyo ko’t aliw,
    paalam sa inyo, mga ginigiliw;
    mamatay ay siyang pagkakagupiling!
    ——————-
    Spanish Translation
    Adiós, Patria adorada, región del sol querida,
    Perla del mar de oriente, nuestro perdido Edén!
    A darte voy alegre la triste mustia vida,
    Y fuera más brillante, más fresca, más florida,
    También por ti la diera, la diera por tu bien.
    En campos de batalla, luchando con delirio,
    Otros te dan sus vidas sin dudas, sin pesar;
    El sitio nada importa, ciprés, laurel o lirio,
    Cadalso o campo abierto, combate o cruel martirio,
    Lo mismo es si lo piden la patria y el hogar.
    Yo muero cuando veo que el cielo se colora
    Y al fin anuncia el día tras lóbrego capuz;
    si grana necesitas para teñir tu aurora,
    Vierte la sangre mía, derrámala en buen hora
    Y dórela un reflejo de su naciente luz.
    Mis sueños cuando apenas muchacho adolescente,
    Mis sueños cuando joven ya lleno de vigor,
    Fueron el verte un día, joya del mar de oriente,
    Secos los negros ojos, alta la tersa frente,
    Sin ceño, sin arrugas, sin manchas de rubor.
    Ensueño de mi vida, mi ardiente vivo anhelo,
    ¡Salud te grita el alma que pronto va a partir!
    ¡Salud! Ah, que es hermoso caer por darte vuelo,
    Morir por darte vida, morir bajo tu cielo,
    Y en tu encantada tierra la eternidad dormir.
    Si sobre mi sepulcro vieres brotar un día
    Entre la espesa yerba sencilla, humilde flor,
    Acércala a tus labios y besa al alma mía,
    Y sienta yo en mi frente bajo la tumba fría,
    De tu ternura el soplo, de tu hálito el calor.
    Deja a la luna verme con luz tranquila y suave,
    Deja que el alba envíe su resplandor fugaz,
    Deja gemir al viento con su murmullo grave,
    Y si desciende y posa sobre mi cruz un ave,
    Deja que el ave entone su cántico de paz.
    Deja que el sol, ardiendo, las lluvias evapore
    Y al cielo tornen puras, con mi clamor en pos;
    Deja que un ser amigo mi fin temprano llore
    Y en las serenas tardes cuando por mí alguien ore,
    ¡Ora también, oh Patria, por mi descanso a Diόs!
    Ora por todos cuantos murieron sin ventura,
    Por cuantos padecieron tormentos sin igual,
    Por nuestras pobres madres que gimen su amargura;
    Por huérfanos y viudas, por presos en tortura
    Y ora por ti que veas tu redención final.
    Y cuando en noche oscura se envuelva el cementerio
    Y solos sólo muertos queden velando allí,
    No turbes su reposo, no turbes el misterio,
    Tal vez acordes oigas de cítara o salterio,
    Soy yo, querida Patria, yo que te canto a ti.
    Y cuando ya mi tumba de todos olvidada
    No tenga cruz ni piedra que marquen su lugar,
    Deja que la are el hombre, la esparza con la azada,
    Y mis cenizas, antes que vuelvan a la nada,
    El polvo de tu alfombra que vayan a formar.
    Entonces nada importa me pongas en olvido.
    Tu atmósfera, tu espacio, tus valles cruzaré.
    Vibrante y limpia nota seré para tu oído,
    Aroma, luz, colores, rumor, canto, gemido,
    Constante repitiendo la esencia de mi fe.
    Mi patria idolatrada, dolor de mis dolores,
    Querida Filipinas, oye el postrer adiós.
    Ahí te dejo todo, mis padres, mis amores.
    Voy donde no hay esclavos, verdugos ni opresores,
    Donde la fe no mata, donde el que reina es Diόs.
    Adiós, padres y hermanos, trozos del alma mía,
    Amigos de la infancia en el perdido hogar,
    Dad gracias que descanso del fatigoso día;
    Adiós, dulce extranjera, mi amiga, mi alegría,
    Adiós, queridos seres, morir es descansar.
     
c
compose new post
j
next post/next comment
k
previous post/previous comment
r
reply
e
edit
o
show/hide comments
t
go to top
l
go to login
h
show/hide help
esc
cancel