Mga salita’y patalim sa kaluluwa ng walang muang,
kanilang ligayang payak di man lamang makamtan.
Nang sabihing masamang piliin ang ngiti at
puso’t damdaming ay ulit na namang nasaktan.
Di ba nawawari ang pagod at hirap
na tila walang katapusang pinapasan?
Ang paggapang sa lupa ng putik at dusa,
titig-inggit sa kalawakan, mga ulap at buwan?
Hindi ba natatanto ang lungkot sa mga mata,
lugmok sa hinagpis at katamlayan?
Sarili lamang ang sadyang nakikita
ng mga matang ayaw buksan sa katotohanan.
Ano ang karapatang mapagod at magpakalayo?
Diba’t tungkulin lamang itong pinagtutuunan?
Diba’t regalo lamang itong ibinabalik?
Pagkat ang pagibig at malasakit ay walang tumbas na dahilan.
Sige, at angkinin mo ang mga yamang inaasam,
nang salapi at pag-aari ay wag nang pag-takman.
Salaping kapalit ng dangal ng kaluluwang isinasangla,
kapalit ng paglimot sa buhay ng katotohanan.
Words, razor-sharp, rip through innocent souls
who are but strangers to unadorned happiness;
whose smiles and laughter are treated like crime,
whose hearts are all too familiar with cruel sadness.
Has their pain and strife been thrown in oblivion—
endless like white summer stars?
The years have dragged them through mud and mire,
their grief only rewarded by old battle scars.
Do you not sense the soulful sadness in their eyes,
eyes that have seen old turmoil and weary youth?
No, for your eyes are blinded shut by your own discontent
and will never realize the sharp-edged truth.
There is no shame in suffering, no folly in pain;
they are but part and parcel of loving kin.
They are old gifts passed on like heirloom;
no payment, no price—only pride within.
So go ahead and take your gilded prize,
that your greed and hunger be well-fed.
Take the banknotes to buy out your pawned soul,
without wish that they torment you beyond death.
