When The Grain Is Golden and The Wind Is Chilly Then it is Time To Harvest
Leron-leron sinta, umakyat sa papaya
Dala-dala’y buslo’, sisidlan ng bunga
In a dusty village in Cagayan Valley,
Ramon and his father were planting rice when soldiers
appeared on their farm. They questioned his father,
if he’d seen any communist rebels recently
in the area, and when he did not give them
a good enough answer, they beat him with the blunt ends
of their rifles, shot him as he was lying
on the ground. Ramon snuck away but remained hidden
in nearby bushes, to witness the soldiers
laugh out loud as they chopped his father’s shaking body--
'they first removed his penis, then cut below
the knees, then the ankles, then the elbows, then the neck.'
Leron-leron sinta, umakyat sa papaya
Dala-dala’y buslo’, sisidlan ng bunga
After dusk Ramon ran home to his mother
and younger brother. She feared the soldiers would soon knock
on their door, so she took her sons deep inside
the muddy jungle of the Sierra Madre mountains.
After about four weeks, she sent Ramon to buy
rice, some fish, and a few canned goods. The sun was heavy,
the road to the village kept stretching further
and his legs felt weak, so Ramon boarded a jeepney
to take him to the market on Luna street.
A soldier recognized him at a military
checkpoint and he pointed his gun at Ramon,
yelled at him to step out with his hands up in the air.
Leron-leron sinta, umakyat sa papaya
Dala-dala’y buslo’, sisidlan ng bunga
No questions were asked. Ramon told us the most
painful torture he endured was when the soldiers joined
two blocks of wood and used the weapon to hit
him directly on the ears, over and over
[...] Read more
poem by Nick Carbo
Added by Poetry Lover
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