I am a Filipino

I am a Filipino

By Carlos P. Romulo


I am a Filipino – inheritor of a glorious past, hostage of the uncertain future.  As such I must prove equal to a twofold task – the task  of meeting my responsibility to the past, and the task of performing my obligation to the future.


I am sprung from a hardy race, child of many generations removed of ancient Malayan pioneers. Across the centuries the memory comes rushing back to me; of brown-skinned men putting out to sea in ships that were as frail as their hearts were stout. Over the sea I saw them come, borne upon the billowing wave and the whistling wind, carried upon the mighty swell of hope in the free abundance of the new land that was to be their home and their children’s forever.


This is the land they sought and found. Every inch of shore that their eyes first set upon, every hill and mountain that beckoned to them with a green-and-purple invitation; every mile of rolling plain that their view encompassed, every river and lake that promised a plentiful living and the fruitfulness of commerce, is hallowed spot to me.


By the strength of their hearts and hands, by every right of law, human and divine, this land and all the appurtenances thereto – the black and fertile soil, and the seas and lakes and rivers teeming with fish, the forests with their inexhaustible wealth in wild life and timber, the mountains with their bowels swollen with minerals – the whole of this rich and happy land has been for centuries without number the land of my fathers. This land I received in trust from them and in trust will pass it on to my children, and so on until the world is no more.


I am a Filipino.  In my blood runs the immortal seed of heroes – seed that flowered down the centuries in deeds of courage and defiance. In my veins yet pulses the same hot blood that sent Lapu-lapu to battle against the first invader of this land, that nerved Lakandula in the combat against the alien foe, that drove Diego Silang and Dagohoy into rebellion against the foreign oppressor.

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God said, “I made a man”

by Jose Garcia Villa

God said, “I made a man out of clay-

But so bright he, he spun Himself to the brightest Day

Till he was all shining gold, and oh,

He was handsome to behold!

But in his hands held he a bow

Aimed at me who created him.

And said, “Wouldst murder me

Who am thy Fountainhead?”

Then spole he the man of gold:

I will not Murder thee! I do but Measure thee.

Hold Thy peace!”

And this I did, But I was curious of this so regal head.

“Give thy name! – “Sir! Genius.”



by Ernesto Manalo

And I wanted them all around me and I

gathered them:

My brother (my keeper), my wife, my mother

and my father.

My father said: I will stand by and watch over


My wife slept beside me.

My brother watched over me.

And my mother was my spiritual keeper.

And I said: You who thus watch over me will get no reward

But that I shall sleep peacefully.

And they said: We shall watch over you and

get no reward

But that you shall sleep peacefully.

Someone Behind This Life

Someone Behind This Life

by: Alfonso Santos

Not with my eyes can I behold your form,

Nor with my hands can I feel you nearby;

Yet I believe there is Someone, a power

Behind this life, the stars, the mountains, and the sea.

Within my heart I feel something urgent and potent every day and night,

And in my soul there is nameless depth,

Around which cluster my faith and beliefs.

It must be You who dwell deep in my soul and You

Who feed this life and make nature itself renew.