The fickle-minded spirits and fairies
Have fled the old trees and groves,
Dark caves and mounds in the shadows,
Mossy rocks and whispering streams.
The gnarled balete and the blackbird
Have lost their intriguing power.

The uncertainties of the past ages
No longer lurk to exact awe and fear.
In the forest throbs discreetly
A certainty above the certainties
Of chopping wood, hunting boar and deer,
Gathering fruits, honey and even orchids.

But the forest is still enchanted.
There is a new hymn in the wind;
There is a new magic in the dark green,
So the peasant folks say to friends.
A single fighting spirit has taken over
To lure in and astonish the intruders.

The Forest is Still Enchanted

The Guerilla is Like a Poet

In the Dark Depths

In Praise of Martyrs

Poems and Rest

Sometimes the Heart Yearns

The Bladed Poem

A Furnace

What makes a hero

Sometimes the heart yearns for mangoes

The north star is always there

The guerrilla is like a poet

The forest is still enchanted

The bladed poem

Coming of the rain

What Makes a Hero

Sometimes the Heart Yearns for

Poem and Rest

The North Star is Always There

Nothing More Beautiful

Gold

The Giant Oak

The Coming of the Rain

Angalo, O Angalo!

Of Bladed Poems

Rose for a Waking Woman

Popular tracks by Jose Maria Sison