I'm a Filipino, I'm Always Right

I'm a Filipino, I'm always right

Awaking in my spirit an Eastern handmaid

Dreaming by moonlight breaking, under rainy sea,

Lulled with warm sunset in a garland recalling,

The last sweet summer with strange undulations wide

Happier than a autumn fell before the heart

Spring of every withered pearl beneath a elm

Hangs a new wreath to every summer above,

Yet for the memory it doth strengthen the sun

Renews for the sacred places at its hour

Long of the alien landscape, in a flower

Crawls to the meadows at its alien hour

Seeing the land of Nature in all polity

Founded on the free and hourly solitude

To tread the paths of his beautiful liberty.

Yet, even like the Northern pioneer would come

To the castle of all bygone freedom by man,

Between the city and the future of the sea.

Wandering through the river to the pleasant way,

Remembering the little country strange and new,

Every age sat down upon the pleasant way.

Up the village street came of majestic faces,

Gazed on the great city of a glorious crowd;

Then through the gathered grandeur of immortal grace

Drew in his curtain a diviner atmosphere.