Jhio Jan Navarro

Salansan

Sa saliw ng lagaslas na yumayapos sa kanyang tuhod,
dahan-dahan, marahan niyang pinagpapatong-patong
ang mga bato.

Madalas mabigo ang tangka. Napaamo na ang dulas
ng ikalawa, huhulagpos naman ang mailap
na sentro ng grabidad ng ikatlo.

Maghapon siyang lubog at nakayuko. Pawisan
sa gitna ng agos -- iginigiit sa mga toreng salansan
na sa matiyagang pakikinig sa bulong ng ilog
na ikinukubli ng lagaslas, maging buto't laman
nagiging matatas
sa wika ng bato.
Stack

In the rhythm of the murmur embracing his knees,
little by little, he carefully places the stones
on top of each other.

The attempt often fails. Just when the surface of
of the second one has been controlled, the center
of gravity of the third one will slip.

He’s submerged and slouching the whole afternoon. Sweating
in the middle of the current -- asserting among towers stacked
that in patient listening to the whisper of the river
hidden by murmurs, even his flesh and bone
will become fluent
to the language of stones.
Kintsugi

Paano susumpain
ang nagpapatihulog?

Kung ginto
ang dugong didila
sa mga tipak,

kung ginto
ang magiging bitak

sa muling pagkabuo, sino
ang di mararahuyo
sa pagkabasag?
Kintsugi

How does one curse
falling down?

If gold
is the blood licking
the parts,

if gold
will become the cracks

after being remade, who
wouldn’t be attracted to the
idea of being shattered?



Jhio Jan Navarro hails from the island of Negros in the Philippines. Translations of his poems have appeared in Modern Poetry in Translation, Asymptote, and Poetry Northwest. He is currently based in the island of Panay, working as an Instructor at the University of the Philippines Visayas.

Eric Abalajon’s translations have appeared in Circumference Magazine, The Polyglot, Exchanges: Journal of Literary Translation, and Tripwire: a journal of poetics. His debut poetry collection is forthcoming from FlowerSong Press. He lives near Iloilo City.