top of page
Minerva p.4

7

The ferment had reached Nueva Caceres,

The colonizer’s citadel where robust faith had

Taken root, fortified the hearts of men against

The tantrums of the Pacific, the hiccups of Isarog.

 

The faith centered on the Lady from from far-off

Peña de Francia, who first revived a dog slaughtered

So its blood could be used to consecrate the wood

That would stand as posts to her first makeshift visita.

 

Word of her miracles spread across the region

First called Ibalon, and she had become Mother

And Nuestra Señora to conquistador and ilustrado,

And Ina to peon and inquilino, lowliest pilgrim,

 

Farm hand, city dweller, colegiala of Santa Isabel,

Denizens of the outpost that had taken the name

Of the walled city of Roman and Moor in Extremadura,

Where Katalingkasan still meant passing over,

 

As sagalas in their habitos lit their votive candles

To the Divino Rostro, and all the brave men,

Whether ilustrado or cuchero or lambanog devotee

Became voyadores and rowers of the slow-moving

 

Pagoda, the boat-borne shrine of the Ina reigning

On the shallows of the Rio de Naga, and in the rhythm

Of veins, muscle, and sinew, oared, thrusted

The outriggers and roared from their animist throats:

 

Viva la Virgen, Viva! At the Traslacion and back,

Their bare backs glistening with sweat mingled

With holy water of the river, the monsoons’ passion

And heady lambanog exploding in their breasts:

 

Viva la Virgen, Viva! Viva la Virgen, Viva!

8

The ferment seething, the history sketchy,

Mariano Perfecto was a native Nuvo Cacereño

Claimed by Panayeños as the Father of Hiligaynon

Literature. A negociante who happened to be in

Printing and publishing, he built the first press

In the Visayan island and thrived there. But

Words are the agents of insidious nationalism.

 

And Ina, too, was calling back. In fact it was

The Bishop who invited him home to put up

His printery for the diocese. (But by coincidence,

When the Diario de Manila had been shuttered,

A smaller secret Minerva had began spinning

In an inner district of the god-fearing town.)

And it wasn’t prayer novenas it churned out,

 

But pamphlets of a different devotion. Perfecto

Was siring a new literature—the Perdon for

Supplication, novenas for promises and vows.

But the K’s were intact, for Kyries as well as

For Katalingkasan, which had become a passing

Over into freedom. The Bikols paid dearly:

Quince Martires for the Traslacion of Inang Bayan.

 

Liberame Domine de morte aeterna, the dirge

Written by Marcelo Adonai echoed in the dusk,

In secret rites in private houses without blessing

Of curate or symbols of the purple catafalque.

Let us pray for Inocencio, Gabriel, Severino,

All men of the cloth. Manuel, Domingo, Ramon:

Father and two sons. Camilo, Tomas, Florendo.

 

Macario, Cornelio, Leon. And two Marianos.

Receive their soul, O Lord, in your bosom. Eleven

Executed at the Luneta. Like the Gomburza

Before them. And Pepe after them. And four either

Exiled or died of torture incarcerated. Young men

Of whom the oldest was 45, all serving the Inâ

Of Kabikolan. And now Inang Bayan, Amen.

Cajista2.jpg
bottom of page