Usa ka dangaw ang mipataliwa
sa atong kapalaran.
Nagtapad ta niining dyip
nga naglatas sa kadalanan sa V. Rama.
Kulongon ang imong buhok
nga gipaak sa pulang pugong,
samtang ang imong duha ka itom nga ariyos
giduyan-duyan sa huyuhoy.
Mihunong ang 06C sa eskina sa Espina.
Ug sa imong pagkanaog, gikulipa
sa pugong ang imong buhok, nanamilit
og kinalitkalit ug kinawatkawat
nga halok sa akong tuong aping.
Ug karon,
ang mipataliwa sa atong kapalaran
ang dili madangaw nga kamingaw,
samtang mipabulhot ang dyip
paingon sa utlanan sa V. Rama.
06C
Translated by Jade Mark Capiñanes
A handspan was all that separated
our fates.
We sat side by side in this jeepney
traversing the streets of V. Rama.
Your kinky hair
was clamped by a red clip,
while your two black earrings
were swayed by the breeze.
The 06C stopped at the corner of Espina.
And as you got off, your hair,
chucked by the clip, bid farewell
so suddenly, brushing stolen
kisses on my right cheek.
And now,
what separates our fates
is an immeasurable loneliness,
as the jeepney sped onward
to the end of V. Rama.
Alden Arsèn was born in Zamboanga City, Philippines where the croaks of the frogs were the first lullaby that put him to sleep. He usually writes short stories, essays, and poems when intoxicated by liquor or loneliness. He lives for Sally and his three dogs: Nala, Deib, and Luci.