Looking back…in the days of yore
I was a WW II boy then during that time
Nobody knows me except my co-vaqueros
And few of my neighbors who saw me passing by with my water buffalos (carabaos).
I was then a skinny kid in the block
Wearing shabby clothes and a worn-out hat
My skins are tanned due to the blistering heat
Of the shining brightness of the summer sun.
On summer days when schools are out
I played with other kids who were also vaqueros
We played and romped over the open meadows
Climbed the hill and down the hill we go.
When rice-harvest time comes sometime in April or May
I was so happy then because my flock of water buffalos
One, two, three, four, and five have so much grass to graze on
And now I have time to help my parents in the process of threshing the rice to bring them home.
To me, there’s more fun in harvesting, than in planting rice
So much work to be done in the soil preparation
Like plowing the fields, harrowing the fields and grading the fields
But if there no rain, during the soil preparation, sorry we can’t plant rice for that season.
