Sawa – Philippine Spirits https://phspirits.com Your Portal to Philippine Mythology Wed, 17 Jul 2024 05:16:13 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.6.2 https://phspirits.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/05/cropped-Spirits-Logo-JPEG-scaled-1-32x32.jpg Sawa – Philippine Spirits https://phspirits.com 32 32 Sawa – Tagalog Marinduque Translation https://phspirits.com/sawa-tagalog-marinduque-translation/ Wed, 17 Jul 2024 05:16:13 +0000 https://phspirits.com/?p=4642

*Note this story is in Tagalog-Marinduque

Kuminang ang dagat na para bagang mga dinurog na diyamante, nasisinagan ito ng mga liwanag ng bituin.

 

Ngayong gab-i, gaya ng iba pang mga gab-i, ito na ang ritwal niya. Dis-oras na ng gab-i, ito ay oras nang ipagtutulog na, kung kailang ang mga tao ay nananag-inip na at ito din naman ang oras na siya ay naga-isip-isip.

 

Akaunti na ang natitira sa kanyang inatirhan. Nagakwento noon ang nanay niya tungkol sa mga taong nagala-gala sa isla pero makamatagal nang panahon ‘yun. Tumingin naman siya sa dagat ay napakaraming turista na pumar-on para lumayo sandali sa magulong buhay sa siyudad. Dati ang lugar na ito ay paraiso para sa mga nakatira doon pero ngay-on ay para na lamang itong baong walang laman. Inubos na ng napakaraming tao na napunta at naalis din pagkatapos.

 

Napaiyak siya nang kaunti at naramdaman niya ang makamatinding kalungkutan. “Ay bakit nagkaganire na? Ito na baga ang kapalaran naring mga kababayan ko? Ay parang naligaw na, palaboy-laboy na laang para mahanap kung saan baga dapat ang apar-unan”.

 

Pumikit siya at bumuntong-hininga. Humiga siya sa buhanginan at pinabyaang maglakbay ang kanyang diwa hanggang mapuno na siya ng kadiliman.

 

Nagising na siya, nakapagpahinga at handa na pero para bayang may mali.

 

Ang mga bituin ay hindi na nasasalamin nung dagat, hindi na din niya maramdaman ang sinag ng buwan.

 

Sa loob-loob niya, alam na niya ang nangyayari.

 

Madaling araw na, kapag ganito ay mapar-on na sa bukid ang mga kapitbahay niya at magahanap-buhay na, pero naalala niyang matagal na ngani palang hindi ganito ang nangyayari. Makamatagal na ngani palang nawala ang ganitong pamumuhay.

 

Bumalik na siya sa tirahan at pamilya niya habang nangangapa sa dilim. Hindi naman siya naga-alaala, ganito naman na talaga maski noon pa.

 

Nagdilim ang kanyang paningin hanggang sa wala na siyang maaninaw.

 

Hanggang sa ang tabing dagat ay tinambakan na ng mga semento at konkreto.

 

Hanggang ang mga gubat ay nilunod na ng mga minahan.

 

Hanggang ang pamilya niya ay wala nang agapilian kundi mamalimos.

 

Alam niyang kailangan niyang sumigaw, para makalaban ulit ang araw at makaalis sa abang kalagayan. Nananalaytay ito sa kanyang dugo, sa dugo ng kanyang mga kababayan.

 

Ngunit mas nanaig ang katahimikan.

 

“Pabayai nang kunin at kainin ng sawa ‘yang araw”. Napaluhod siya at napaluha sa gitna ng kadiliman.

====-=———————-=

English Version

The sea glistened like a field of crushed diamonds, reflecting the soft light of the stars.

Tonight, as in all nights, was her ritual. It was late, the time when dreams fluttered in the minds of others, and it was this time that she could collect her thoughts.

There was little left for her in what should have been her home. Her mother had told her stories of when her people would move as nomads all over the island, but those times were long past. She looked at the beach, now filled with tourists escaping the drudgery of city life. This place was once a paradise for her people to live, now it was a hollow shell of its former self, chipped away at the ends by the consumption of man.

A soft tear made its way down her cheek, and her sorrow reaches its peak. How did it come to this, was this really the destiny of her people? Forever lost, forever wandering for their place in the world?

She closes her eyes and breathes in the night air. She lays her head on the soft sand, letting the thoughts fly through her mind until darkness fills her.

She awakens, rested and ready, yet something is not right.

The stars are not reflected on the sea, she cannot feel the warm glow of moonlight.

Instinctively she knows.

It is early, when her people would tend to the fields and go about the means of their survival, but no, she corrects herself, the old ways are gone.

She goes back to her home and her family stumbling through the darkness. It does not bother her, in a way it has followed her all her life.

The darkness fills her vision until nothing is left.

Until the beaches are covered with concrete.

Until the forests are drowned by the mines.

Until her family has to resort to begging.

She knows she has to shout, to make the sun fight back against its victimhood. It is in her blood, the blood of her people.

Yet silence reigns.

“Let the serpent take the sun.” She falls on her knees and her tears fall into the darkness.

=———————–=

*The version of Tagalog spoken in Marinduque, known as the Marinduque Tagalog, has been described as “the root from which modern national forms of speech have sprung,” where remnants of archaic Tagalog could be found, spoken in a lilting manner by its inhabitants.

Written by Karl Gaverza

Translation by Hazel Rodelas
Copyright © Karl Gaverza

Translation Copyright © Hazel Rodelas

Story inspired by the Sawa description in Creatures of Philippine Lower Mythology. Ramos. 1971.

Sawa Illustration by Patricia Zulueta
Instagram: Instagram.com/crimsonart_

 

]]>
Sawa – Cebuano Translation https://phspirits.com/sawa-cebuano-translation/ Mon, 05 Feb 2024 07:39:23 +0000 https://phspirits.com/?p=4504

*Note this story is in Cebuano

Ang dagat misidlak sama sa usa ka baol nga napuno sa nadugmok nga mga diamante nga nagpabanaag sa malumo nga kahayag sa mga bituon.

Karong gabhiona, sama sa tanang gabii, mao ang iyang ritwal. Lawom na ang gabii, takna diin ang mga damgo naglupad-lupad sa mga alimpatakan sa uban, ug mao kining panahon nga iyang matigom ang iyang mga hunahuna.

Diyotay na lang ang nahibilin alang kaniya niining iya untang puluy-anan. Gisaysayan siya sa iyang inahan matod sa panahon nga ang ilang katigulangan mobalhin-balhin sama sa mga tiglalin sa tibuok nga isla, apan kana nahitabo sa dugay na nga panahon. Mitan-aw siya sa baybayon nga karon napuno sa mga turista nga buot makalingkawas sa kahago sa kinabuhi sa siyudad. Kaniadto, kining dapita usa ka paraisong puluy-anan alang sa iyang mga katigulangan; karon, sama na kini sa usa ka haw-ang nga kabhang kon itandi sa iyang kanhing kaugalingon, nahimong huyang human sa pagkonsumo sa tawo.

Usa ka malumo nga luha ang midagayday sa iyang aping, ug ang iyang kasubo miabot sa kinapungkayan niini. Giunsa kini pagkahitabo, kini ba gayod ang kapalaran sa iyang katawhan? Hangtod sa hangtod nang nawala, hangtod sa hangtod nga maglatagaw alang sa ilang luna sa kalibotan?

Gipiyong niya ang iyang mga mata ug gihanggab ang hangin sa kagabhion. Iyang gipahiluna ang iyang ulo sa humok nga balas, gipasagdan ang mga hunahuna nga molupad sa iyang alimpatakan hangtod nga siya napuno sa kangitngit.

Nahigmata siya, nakapahulay ug andam na, apan dunay dili husto.

Ang mga bituon wala makita sa dagat, dili niya mabati ang mainitong silaw sa kahayag sa bulan.

Nahibalo dayon siya.

Sayo na sa buntag, panahon nga ang iyang katawhan mo-atiman sa mga uma ug sa mga gimbuhaton aron mabuhi, apan dili, iyang gisultihan ang iyang kaugalingon nga ang mga karaan nga pamaagi nahanaw na.

Mibalik siya sa iyang balay ug sa iyang pamilya nga napandol sa kangitngit. Wala hinuon ni makahasol niya, gani nagsunod ni niya sa tibuok niyang kinabuhi.

Ang kangitngit mipuno sa iyang panan-aw hangtod nga wala nay nahibilin.

Hangtod nga natabonan sa semento ang mga baybayon.

Hangtod nga nalumos ang kalasangan sa mga minahan.

Hangtod nga ang iyang pamilya kinahanglan nga modangop sa pagpakilimos.

Nahibal-an niya nga kinahanglan siyang mosinggit, aron ang adlaw makigbatok sa pagkabiktima niini. Anaa kini sa iyang dugo, ang dugo sa iyang katawhan.

Apan naghari ang kahilom.

“Pasagdi nga ang bitin motukob sa adlaw.” Nagluhod siya ug ang iyang mga luha ningdagayday sa kangitngit.

=———————–=

English Version

The sea glistened like a field of crushed diamonds, reflecting the soft light of the stars.

Tonight, as in all nights, was her ritual. It was late, the time when dreams fluttered in the minds of others, and it was this time that she could collect her thoughts.

There was little left for her in what should have been her home. Her mother had told her stories of when her people would move as nomads all over the island, but those times were long past. She looked at the beach, now filled with tourists escaping the drudgery of city life. This place was once a paradise for her people to live, now it was a hollow shell of its former self, chipped away at the ends by the consumption of man.

A soft tear made its way down her cheek, and her sorrow reaches its peak. How did it come to this, was this really the destiny of her people? Forever lost, forever wandering for their place in the world?

She closes her eyes and breathes in the night air. She lays her head on the soft sand, letting the thoughts fly through her mind until darkness fills her.

She awakens, rested and ready, yet something is not right.
The stars are not reflected on the sea, she cannot feel the warm glow of moonlight.

Instinctively she knows.

It is early, when her people would tend to the fields and go about the means of their survival, but no, she corrects herself, the old ways are gone.

The darkness fills her vision until nothing is left.

Until the beaches are covered with concrete.

Until the forests are drowned by the mines.

Until her family has to resort to begging.

She knows she has to shout, to make the sun fight back against its victimhood. It is in her blood, the blood of her people.

Yet silence reigns.

“Let the serpent take the sun.” She falls on her knees and her tears fall into the darkness.

——————————————————————————

*The Cebuano language, alternatively called Cebuan and also often colloquially albeit informally referred to by most of its speakers simply as Bisaya (“Visayan”, not to be confused with other Visayan languages nor Brunei Bisaya language), is an Austronesian regional language spoken in the Philippines by about 21 million people, mostly in Central Visayas, western parts of Eastern Visayas and most parts of Mindanao, most of whom belong to various Visayan ethnolingusitic groups, mainly the Cebuanos. It is the by far the most widely spoken of the Visayan languages, which are in turn part of wider the Philippine languages. The reference to the language as Bisaya is not encouraged anymore by linguists due to the many languages within the Visayan language group that may be confused with the term.

Written by Karl Gaverza
Cebuano Translation by Joanalyn P Gabales
Copyright © Karl Gaverza
Translation Copyright © Joanalyn P Gabales

Story inspired by the Sawa description in Creatures of Philippine Lower Mythology. Ramos. 1971.

Sawa Illustration by Patricia Zulueta
Instagram: Instagram.com/crimsonart_

]]>
Sawa https://phspirits.com/sawa/ Sat, 27 Jan 2018 18:39:52 +0000 http://phspirits.com/?p=700

 

The sea glistened like a field of crushed diamonds, reflecting the soft light of the stars.

Tonight, as in all nights, was her ritual. It was late, the time when dreams fluttered in the minds of others, and it was this time that she could collect her thoughts.

There was little left for her in what should have been her home. Her mother had told her stories of when her people would move as nomads all over the island, but those times were long past. She looked at the beach, now filled with tourists escaping the drudgery of city life. This place was once a paradise for her people to live, now it was a hollow shell of its former self, chipped away at the ends by the consumption of man.

A soft tear made its way down her cheek, and her sorrow reaches its peak. How did it come to this, was this really the destiny of her people? Forever lost, forever wandering for their place in the world?

She closes her eyes and breathes in the night air. She lays her head on the soft sand, letting the thoughts fly through her mind until darkness fills her.

She awakens, rested and ready, yet something is not right.
The stars are not reflected on the sea, she cannot feel the warm glow of moonlight.

Instinctively she knows.

It is early, when her people would tend to the fields and go about the means of their survival, but no, she corrects herself, the old ways are gone.

The darkness fills her vision until nothing is left.

Until the beaches are covered with concrete.

Until the forests are drowned by the mines.

Until her family has to resort to begging.

She knows she has to shout, to make the sun fight back against its victimhood. It is in her blood, the blood of her people.

Yet silence reigns.

“Let the serpent take the sun.” She falls on her knees and her tears fall into the darkness.

——————————————————————————

Written by Karl Gaverza
Copyright © Karl Gaverza

Story inspired by the Sawa description in Creatures of Philippine Lower Mythology. Ramos. 1971.

Sawa Illustration by Patricia Zulueta
Instagram: Instagram.com/crimsonart_

]]>