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© Neng Maria Teresa M. Evangelista

Neng Maria Teresa M. Evangelista
Setiembri 6, 2010

Busal ding ligalig a makapadurut,
Mamaus ku kekayung alang patugut,
Na tipa ko pa patron ku’t makidungut,
King yatu kung asul, masukal, madikut.

Manibat king panaun a mistulang sibut,
Lilibad king kalulung bie a malungkut,
Pati leguan ning yatu ding lua selikut,
Pati iskinita ning bie lalung mekiput.

Kenu ku maus saup a e la gumulut,
Nune kekong patronesang alang imut,
Ikong aduang patron king pusu migyamut,
King turu nang Indu niang yaku lululut.

Santa Teresa ning Espania, Avila,
Akuatru Oktubri, ing aldo nang Fiesta,
Ding masakit buntuk ampon meulila,
At magdulap grasya, iyang patron a Santa.

Indu nang Beatriz tiru nang masala,
Maging reliyosa at maging Cristiana,
Linub ya king Monasteryu ding Carmela,
Ban lisyan ing yatu, milapit king Dios na. 

Neng balisa ku, pilmi kung aganaka,
Kakung pagalsa malaso mu king kalma,
Kan’ta ne kumawa, pusu kung maluka,
Lumele king yatu’t manigapu Banua.

Kadwa kung patron, Sta Therese ning Francia,
Metaid kang Jesus “Ing Malating Sampaga”,
Metung yang madre karin Alencon, Francia,
King Monasteryu da ding madre Carmela.

Atres ning Oktubri, ing aldo nang pista,
Ding atin karamdaman lalu na king baga,
Ampo ring florista, magtindang sampaga,
Yang patungkulan da, tagapaglualung santa.

Malapit ya king Birhen at Banal a Lupa,
Nia yanggang kasakitan niang masakit ya,
Dinaun na karela nia e mu kinumpa,
Yanggang kasakitan, meyumu na kaya.

Kakung Patronesang Therese at Teresa,
Neng tampalasan ing bie’t yaku lalasa,
Turwanan yu kung mamayapa’t magasa,
E kenu pa man nune king Dios mu sa…

By Maria Teresa M. Evangelista
September 6, 2010

In the midst of surrounding distress,
I keep calling and calling on you,
May you descend my patronesses,
To my messy world thick in blue.

Since those times of budding years,
Journeying a poor life in sorrow,
The world’s beauty hidden by tears,
And the path of life getting narrow.

Whom to call who won’t turn back on me?
If not to my unselfish patrons, I know,
You two have rooted deep inside of me,
With my Mother’s teachings as I grow.

Saint Teresa of Avila, there in Spain,
The fourth of October, her feast day,
The parentless and those with head pains,
Those in need of grace, their Saint to pray.

Her Mother Beatriz taught her clearly,
To be religious and to be a Christian,
She entered the Carmelite Monastery,
To be detached, but close to the Holy One.

When I’m troubled, I remember then,
My anger will melt in calm, that even,
My poor, humble heart will thirsts again,
For world isolation and pray to Heaven.

My other patroness, St Therese of France,
Named,“The Little Flower of Jesus, the Son”,
Who became a sister in Alencon, France,
At the Monastery of the Carmelite nuns.

October 3rd we celebrate her feast,
The sick especially with Tubercolosis,
The vendors of flowers or florists,
Their patroness, they ask their wish.

She’s close to the Virgin and Holy Face,
And so when she was in ailing state,
Offered her pains, not just to alleviate,
‘Til all her pains, are sweet to embrace.

My patronesses, Saints Teresa and Therese,
When life seems cruel and my pain so bad,
Teach me to stay calm and rely in peace,
To rely to no one but solely to dear God…