Too late champacas bloom for summertime;
Enfeebling rain has poured itself on earth.
Redundant churchbell mourns in every chime;
Its sound is made monotonous by dirt.
Yet waxing moon emits a gloomy light
At this pale image of San Roque’s bounds;
Known landscape of Gapan from sides to height
Is sprawled with burdened rice that gilds the grounds.
Just when will my discomfort disappear?
Oblivious of my days, I’m going mad.
So far away you are, so distant, dear,
Embittering the worst despair I’ve had.
Persistent grief kills fast my weary frame;
Hour after hour, I summon your sweet name.
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