Dancing Letters

Oyayi

Oyayi

The Sun shines on my native land,
The sky glowing of battles fought.
The clouds tell tales of sinking sand,
The treasure that men have sought.

Epics and fables of long ago,
Songs and dances of lives gone by.
The wind whispers for us to know,
The whispers dispersing into a sigh.

The story of the blood running through my veins,
The story of the colour of my skin.
The lullabies of the people who sang to the rains,
The story of my ancestors and of my kin.

Night approaches, silently and serenely,
The stars sing a song from before,
Their voices piece together a symphony,
The song of history heightening more and more.

The sky sings a gentle oyayi,
A lullaby before we all sleep.
Legends of both land and sea,
Before we fall into slumber so deep.

A million hunters, ten thousand kings,
Hundreds of battles and wars
A great multitude, so many things,
The story as old as the sky and the stars.

My country, sing once more for us,
Help us remember our fading history.
Refresh old wounds, wipe away the dust,
Sing the ancient tune of the sad oyayi.

~
a composer's note: oyayi means a lullaby in Tagalog.