KAPAMPANGAN LYRICS
Atin cu pung singsing
Metung yang timpucan
Amana que iti
Quing indung ibatan
Sancan queng sininup
Queng metung a caban
Mewala ya iti
E cu camalayan.
Ing sucal ning lub cu
Susucdul king banua
Picurus cung gamat
Babo ning lamesa
Ninu mang manaquit
Quing singsing cung mana
Calulung pusu cu
Manginu ya caya.
Saturday, January 15, 2011
myth
The Legend of the Sleeping Beauty
In those days, tribes were not in good terms with each other. Tribal wars were common.
There was a man in Tinglayan called Banna, who had extraordinary bravery and strength. He had an unusual charm so people look up to him for leadership. He was also a very good "ullalim" singer.
One day Banna realized that he needed a life time partner, someone to share his life with, so he went in search for a wife. Since there were no eligible women in his barrio he decided to ascend Mount Patukan, a mountain east of Tinglayan and go to the sitio of Dacalan, Tanudan.While it was still daylight, he stopped and rested under a big tree at a distance away from the village so that no one could see him. This is because he might provoke trouble by his presence.
When night came, Banna slowly went down nearer to the village and searched for a place to observe. After some time, he heard a soft, melodious female voice singing the ullalim. He was drawn to the voice and moved closer to the hut. Peeping, he saw the most beautiful woman he had ever set eyes on. Long, wavy hair, dark, fringed eyes, and a voice that grew sweeter and sweeter as he drew closer to the hut.
Banna was mesmerized...captivated by the lyrical voice. The leaves of the trees around him seemed to be dancing in unison with the woman's ululations.
He knew it was extremely dangerous for him to reveal himself inside the village territory, but his burning desire to meet the woman, was stronger than his sense of survival.
He knocked boldly at the "sawali" (bamboo made) walls of the hut.
" Anna tago," (Someone's here.)
" Umma sanat?" (Who is it?), the singing stopped, but the spoken words were the most appealing sound Banna had ever heard.
" This is Banna" from Tinglayan.
He heard hurried movements from the house, then a male voice spoke harshly, "What do you need?"
The natives were very protective of their women and properties, and Banna knew that he could get killed by his boldness.
"I don't mean any harm, I come in peace. I would like to meet the woman who sings the ullalim with passion."
The family was so nervous of letting a stranger in the house and had urged him to go home instead. But Banna was persistent and had refused to go.
Dongdongan - the father of the woman - slowly opened the door and saw a young, handsome man standing like a sentinel at the door. He repeated his plea for Banna to leave but the stance of the Banna indicated, he would not be budged from where he stood. So, he reluctantly
In those days, tribes were not in good terms with each other. Tribal wars were common.
There was a man in Tinglayan called Banna, who had extraordinary bravery and strength. He had an unusual charm so people look up to him for leadership. He was also a very good "ullalim" singer.
One day Banna realized that he needed a life time partner, someone to share his life with, so he went in search for a wife. Since there were no eligible women in his barrio he decided to ascend Mount Patukan, a mountain east of Tinglayan and go to the sitio of Dacalan, Tanudan.While it was still daylight, he stopped and rested under a big tree at a distance away from the village so that no one could see him. This is because he might provoke trouble by his presence.
When night came, Banna slowly went down nearer to the village and searched for a place to observe. After some time, he heard a soft, melodious female voice singing the ullalim. He was drawn to the voice and moved closer to the hut. Peeping, he saw the most beautiful woman he had ever set eyes on. Long, wavy hair, dark, fringed eyes, and a voice that grew sweeter and sweeter as he drew closer to the hut.
Banna was mesmerized...captivated by the lyrical voice. The leaves of the trees around him seemed to be dancing in unison with the woman's ululations.
He knew it was extremely dangerous for him to reveal himself inside the village territory, but his burning desire to meet the woman, was stronger than his sense of survival.
He knocked boldly at the "sawali" (bamboo made) walls of the hut.
" Anna tago," (Someone's here.)
" Umma sanat?" (Who is it?), the singing stopped, but the spoken words were the most appealing sound Banna had ever heard.
" This is Banna" from Tinglayan.
He heard hurried movements from the house, then a male voice spoke harshly, "What do you need?"
The natives were very protective of their women and properties, and Banna knew that he could get killed by his boldness.
"I don't mean any harm, I come in peace. I would like to meet the woman who sings the ullalim with passion."
The family was so nervous of letting a stranger in the house and had urged him to go home instead. But Banna was persistent and had refused to go.
Dongdongan - the father of the woman - slowly opened the door and saw a young, handsome man standing like a sentinel at the door. He repeated his plea for Banna to leave but the stance of the Banna indicated, he would not be budged from where he stood. So, he reluctantly
myth
myths
Philippine succulent mangoes are among the well patronized products in the international market since early times. One of the Philippine myths on the mango fruit goes this way.
Long time ago, so this Philippine myth goes, in a wooden villa deep in the forest was a beautiful lady. An only daughter of an old, old couple, they wanted her married as soon as possible. They feared dying without seeing her married. This Philippine myth says Pangga was her name, meaning “object of love” in the vernacular. Aside from her arresting natural pulchritude, she was very industrious, kind, and smart with rustic wisdom. Moreover, Pangga knew a lot of trade skills that had earned her quite a bit of money. Thus, her parents wanted nothing but the best man for her.
But Pangga fell for a local poet, a professional dreamer. He was known in the village as a desperate writer whose works of poetry made meager money. This Philippine myth continues that Manong, the dreamer, lived in the fields and slept in mangers. He was the town’s vagrant. But one thing about him; he had a knack for speaking sweet nothings, a full-pledged sweet talker who could promise the sun, moon and stars to the one his eyes beheld. Girls in town went crazy for him (though they never bought his poems) but his eyes were only for Pangga.
His sweet nothings never fooled old folks, though. His own parents, when still alive, often remarked “Please cut out the sweet pleasantries!” when he was at his verbal talent again. In the vernacular the remark went “Manong magtigil ka nga!” So, as this Philippine myth goes, they gave him the nickname Manong.
Pangga’s parents never bought Manong’s promises of bringing down the sun and moon to shine on their forest-dimmed bungalow and other sweet nothings. “You’re always saying that sun-moon conversation of yours. That’s all you know!” Pangga’s parents mocked him. But Manong and Pangga sought to stubbornly keep their love vows till their dying day. Then, the Philippine myth says, one day they disappeared in the woods.
The Philippine myth ends with a discovery of a new kind of tree. Its fruit was a bit crescent-shaped like the moon, yellow like the sun, and sweet like Manong’s tongue. It was rich in nutrition as Pangga’s multi-faceted genius. In time it was called “Manga,” a mix of their names, and today’s vernacular for mango.
The Philippine myth on mango fruits is a local version of Romeo and Juliet but which went sweeter as to create a sweet offspring—the mango fruit.
Philippine succulent mangoes are among the well patronized products in the international market since early times. One of the Philippine myths on the mango fruit goes this way.
Long time ago, so this Philippine myth goes, in a wooden villa deep in the forest was a beautiful lady. An only daughter of an old, old couple, they wanted her married as soon as possible. They feared dying without seeing her married. This Philippine myth says Pangga was her name, meaning “object of love” in the vernacular. Aside from her arresting natural pulchritude, she was very industrious, kind, and smart with rustic wisdom. Moreover, Pangga knew a lot of trade skills that had earned her quite a bit of money. Thus, her parents wanted nothing but the best man for her.
But Pangga fell for a local poet, a professional dreamer. He was known in the village as a desperate writer whose works of poetry made meager money. This Philippine myth continues that Manong, the dreamer, lived in the fields and slept in mangers. He was the town’s vagrant. But one thing about him; he had a knack for speaking sweet nothings, a full-pledged sweet talker who could promise the sun, moon and stars to the one his eyes beheld. Girls in town went crazy for him (though they never bought his poems) but his eyes were only for Pangga.
His sweet nothings never fooled old folks, though. His own parents, when still alive, often remarked “Please cut out the sweet pleasantries!” when he was at his verbal talent again. In the vernacular the remark went “Manong magtigil ka nga!” So, as this Philippine myth goes, they gave him the nickname Manong.
Pangga’s parents never bought Manong’s promises of bringing down the sun and moon to shine on their forest-dimmed bungalow and other sweet nothings. “You’re always saying that sun-moon conversation of yours. That’s all you know!” Pangga’s parents mocked him. But Manong and Pangga sought to stubbornly keep their love vows till their dying day. Then, the Philippine myth says, one day they disappeared in the woods.
The Philippine myth ends with a discovery of a new kind of tree. Its fruit was a bit crescent-shaped like the moon, yellow like the sun, and sweet like Manong’s tongue. It was rich in nutrition as Pangga’s multi-faceted genius. In time it was called “Manga,” a mix of their names, and today’s vernacular for mango.
The Philippine myth on mango fruits is a local version of Romeo and Juliet but which went sweeter as to create a sweet offspring—the mango fruit.
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