Kápit na Di-mawaglít (Mga Pilîng Tulâ) / Attachment Theory (Selected Poems)
Original by Krysta Lee Frost
Translated, from the English into Filipino, by Natalie Pacannuayan
Sauládo
úpang bigyáng-katwíran ang pagkasabík sa mga kasukdúlan / inimbénto ko ang kathâ ng kalumbayán /
nagtaním ng kútob / inarugâ ang pagalà-galàng isípan / dinilíg ang mga patáy na ugát / pinabúlok ang
puláng bibíg / pinagpantásyahán ang áking mga kinakatakútan paloób at palabás / kay gandáng
pangitáin ang báwat bangúngot / sa báwat pag-uúlit akó’y nakatagpô ng ginháwa / kinabisá ang báwat
marupók na dalamhatì ng katawán hanggáng walâ nang hapdîng gugúlat pa / gawîng nagíng
propagánda / panghuhulàng nagíng panalángin / ang dilà kong paúlit-úlit sa mga gasgás na parirála /
alám kong naisúlat ko na ang tulâng itó dáti / sinusubúkan kong sabíhin ang ayáw kong sabíhin /
isinusuóng kita sa gawáing ayáw kong gawín mo / ginuguhò ko ang akó na nililikhâ ko at ang akó na
hinuhúbog mo / gustó kong magíng madalî / íwanang bukás ang pintô para sa anumáng daráan /
subálit paáno kung hindî akó lumában / at akó’y mabigô pa rin
*****
Rote
to justify the thrill of crescendos / I invented the myth of loneliness / planted a gut feeling / nurtured
the stray thought / watered the dead roots / rotted the red mouth / fantasized my fears inside out / all
my nightmares beautifully predictable / I found comfort in repetition / memorized the body’s tender
agonies until no pain could come as a shock / pattern turned propaganda / prediction turned prayer /
my tongue repeating the same old phrases / I know I’ve written this poem before / I am trying to say
something I don’t want to say / I am willing you to do something I don’t want you to do / I am
collapsing the I I create and the I you make of me / I want it to be easy / to leave the door open for
whatever comes through / but what if I don’t resist / and I still lose
*****
Nása Bíngit ng Isá na Namáng Guní-guníng Sakunâ
Pagsasánay sa mga línyang sasabíhin ko úpang hatíin
ang sandalîng itó sa kung ano itó at ano itó sa ákin
ay pagmamakaawà na ibalík ang áking kinábukásan
o panghawákan ang áking búhay sa iyóng mga kamáy
hábang minamanéhò mo táyo pabalík sa tahánang áting binuô
sa tíla’y hulíng pagkakátaón na kinakailángan kong
bumigáy patúngo sa katapusáng hindi matuklás-tuklás ang
kahulugán at kampánte sa paggúhit ng áking pagbagsák
isá pang pahiwátig kung akó’y may kamáy, hayaáng silá’y humábi sa
kuwéntong isinusúlat ko mulâ noóng táyo’y únang nagkatagpô
sinabí ko sa’yó na akó ay ‘di matitínag, ‘di pansín ang áking pagkabalisá
lumabás ang kulông waláng-humpáy ang úhaw
para alamín ang kalagáyan ng báwat kílos ko at ang parusáng
dalá nitó sa anumáng sandalî kung paáno yumayaníg ng báwat
suliránin ang áking kahalagahán na mahalín ng táong pinilìng
gugúlin ang búhay na kasáma akó hanggáng sa siyémpre áking
ibunyág na kung síno akó ay siyáng akó mulâ noón pa man
aking mukhâ sumasalamín sa pagkawalâng-malasákit ng lungsód
isáng aníno ng awà para ipaálala na akó’y bálewalâ
kung hindî maláy sa pinakamalalâng pag-uugalì ko
ang gawîng pílit kong hinuhúbog, nagkukunwarîng may
pakíalám sa tanóng sa pagkakasunód-sunód ng
kung paáno itó nangyári at anó pa ang
magagawâ ko para ibahín ang takbó
ng kalkuládo kong pagkatálo para lámang magbigáy-daán na
hawakán mo ang áking kamáy na nagpapaalalâ na waláng
totoóng nagaganáp káhit pa itó—
*****
On the Verge of Another Imagined Catastrophe
Practicing the lines I will say to halve this moment
into what it was and what I’ve made of it
is a plea to give me back my future
or keep my life in your hands
as you drive us back to the home we’ve made
for what could be the last time I must give in
to the approximated conclusion shuddering for definition
and complacent in my own demise I architect
another implication if I have hands let them orchestrate
the story I have been writing since the day we met
I told you I was implacable my restlessness imperceptible then
has reared its ugly head an incessant need
to know the status of all my actions and each variable consequence
at any given time how each predicament destabilizes
my worthiness to be loved by the person who has chosen
to share his life with me until of course I reveal
who I am is who I’ve been all along
my face reflected against the city’s indifference
a shade of mercy to be reminded that I am nothing
if not self-aware of my worst proclivities
the pattern I have been bending to my will
pretending to concern myself with the question
of chronology what led to what and what else
could I have done to shift the trajectory
of my calculated defeat dispelled by the concession
of your hand taking mine reminding me that nothing
not even this is happening—
Krysta Lee Frost is a Filipino American poet who halves her life between the Philippines and the United States. Her work has appeared in The Margins, Likhaan: The Journal of Contemporary Philippine Literature, Berkeley Poetry Review, Nashville Review, The Journal, and Wildness, among others. Her first chapbook, Antibody, was published by Dancing Girl Press in 2022.
Natalie “Nat” Pacannuayan is a 4th year AB Literature major in Literary and Cultural Studies student at De La Salle University – Manila, Philippines. She dabbled in news writing during her junior high school years and carries the pulse of precision and honesty in her writing. Though initially inclined to journalism, Nat has been traversing the intimidating waters of creative writing in her college years, focusing on poetry and creative nonfiction. Her research and writing interests include memory, identity, girl/womanhood, and care ethics. When Nat isn’t reading or writing, she’s probably cuddled up at home with her 7 toy poodles.
Translator’s Note: I went into Frost’s poems blind and fell in love, especially since the author’s experiences of being Filipino-American resonated with my own as an American citizen who, although growing up mostly in the Philippines, continues to grapple with my own Filipino identity. In her website, she mentions how she “halves her life between the Philippines and the United States.” Thus emerged the goal of my translation: to bridge Frost’s works, all written in English, to that “half” of hers that is Filipino. As I wrote in Filipino, I considered the diacritical marks of letters to avoid ambiguity and properly distinguish the difference between words that hold multiple meanings.
For my translation of “Rote,” I read the repetition as self-sabotage for the persona, memorizing and creating a ritual of isolation but muting their own desire to embrace vulnerability and let other people in their life, even refusing to develop a help-seeking attitude. In my translation, I gave these two lines the most thought: “isinusuóng kita sa gawáing ayáw kong gawín mo” translated from “I am willing you to do something I don’t want you to do,” and “kay gandáng pangitáin ang báwat bangúngot” translated from “all my nightmares beautifully predictable.” “Isinusuóng” means to willingly face danger with difficulty, establishing the persona as an agent who can choose to deliberately thrust someone into an action.“Pangitáin” means a supernatural premonition. This suggests an ominous prophecy that reveals how the speaker has come to expect pain, both external and internal, and even find beauty in it.
“On the Verge of Another Imagined Catastrophe” explores self-sabotage through a seemingly endless run-on sentence that is confessional and recursive at the same time. As the poem reveals, every catastrophe happens within the persona’s mind: imagined, rehearsed, and returned to. Once more, self-sabotage is the persona’s internalized ritual, believing that endangering oneself justifies their emotional withdrawal in confronting the self and others. There are two lines in particular that gave me the deepest headache. First is “of my calculated defeat dispelled by the concession” into “ng kalkuládo kong pagkatálo para lámang magbigáy-daán na.” The word “concession” here was one of the toughest words I encountered in this entire project. It comes from the word “concede,” but more so is a compromise to come to an agreement. Rather than relying on the word “concede,” I dwelled on the word “yield” instead, which can be translated as “magbunga” or “magbigáy-daán.” The poem does suggest a compulsion toward yielding or giving in not out of weakness, but as part of their ritual as if the persona is aware that they’ll eventually surrender to an inevitable collapse. “Magbigáy-daán” or “to give way” expresses a deliberate act of stepping aside for self-destruction to take over.
Again, repetition in the persona’s behavior is a key theme: rehearsing lines, revisiting moments, and replaying failures. This “incessant” or “walang-hintong” return to the same emotional states is a loop where past mistakes and wounds are obsessively re-done and re-created. Instead of “hinto,” I ended up with “humpáy” for “incessant” as it means “pagtigil o pagbabawas ng lakas” which relates to the act of giving in due to loss of self-control.