Sunday, June 2, 2013

Farewell, Artus....



 
The revolution has lost a petal
But more will bloom in your stead.

You are now one with our ancestors,
United with our skies
Joined with the moon, the sun, the stars.

Will you continue to stand
On the looming mountains?
Be in every first light of dawn
And in every dancing cloud?
 
Adieu my brother, my comrade,
You are now the fire that forever burns
And now forever roam our lands
Forever, your spirit, we shall seek
In every prayer we make.

Manja, Sri Lanka, 06/03/2013

*********

I cannot forget the unkempt hair as if he never owned a comb. Nor will I forget his famous beard, which he used to make funny faces that made us laugh. I clearly remember how he said “orgashem” instead of “agashem”. I still can recall his old black coat, which I think was the only one he owned.

I still hear his songs of love and revolution - in the streets, on the stage, between boring educational discussions or around a warm bonfire on cold winter nights. My memory is so vivid of his graceful theatrical leaps as he tried, hope not in vain, to teach us the basics of acting and dancing and music. As skilled as he was in his guitar, on the drums and the gongs, who would forget how deft he was with the nose flute?

I can never forget one time, while he was busy making some propaganda paintings with those big angry and scary faces of the President, I asked him to make one that is beautiful to see. Using pointillism, he made me a bookmark - of my face and of a gun, and emblazoned with ‘rosas ng digma’ (rose of the revolution).

He was always a patient man, a kind man.  I never heard him raise his voice at anyone. His patience helped turn stubborn, cynical and mischievous girls like me into instruments of freedom, justice and peace.

When we met in the midst of the lush Cordillera forests in a not so distant past, I wouldn’t know it would be the last. Although when he made that decision to offer his life to the peoples’ struggle, I knew that every rare meeting could be the last. And rare it was, as rare as when the moon was blue. But as the “The Little Prince” would teach us, you will forever be in one of those bright stars shining and watching over us, always. ##


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