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.