Biag ni Lam Ang

Biag ni Lam Ang (Region 1)

The Life of Lam-ang (an Iloko epic) Complete Text (in English)

"LISTEN THEN WHILE I NARRATE AT LENGTH

The life of Lam-ang Because his mother conceived him that month. She did not abstain from any edible fruit:

Tamarind fruits tender and thin as bamboo strings, Kamias, daldaligan,

Oranges and pomelos; Butcher fish, stripped bass, fishes of all sorts; Clams and bivalves big as plates,

Maratangtang and sea urchins; Sea algae, aragan and arosip; Shucked oysters, crayfish caught with net;

Blue crabs baited with salelem, Deer tracked down and killed, boar trapped. All of these she tasted on her eating binge. Until Namungan, the woman Unnayan, Wife of Don Juan Panganiban, Was done conceiving.

And when they had made whole A new soul, Her womb grew bigger. “Listen, my husband Don Juan, Go check on our bamboo groves In the mountain of Capariaan.”

Then make me my reclining bed  The bed I shall use  Right after giving birth.

Being God­given, my husband Don Juan,  The custom cannot be gainsaid.  So go cut me some mature bamboo shoots.

He prepared to leave and once there Went around the grove. Then he hailed the strong winds.

As well as the torrential rains And cavernous clouds. Lightning and thunder came in waves,

Hitting the groves again and again Till it looked like the choicest shoots Had been cut down by a trained bamboo cutter.

“It is unseemly, such a shame For me to carry you, bamboos.” They thus went ahead, Don Juan behind them.

Having reached the home he came down from, In the town of Nalbuan, The bamboos arranged themselves in the yard.

My husband Don Juan,  Let my reclining bed be of hardwood:  This part of molave and gastan;

That part of dangla and guava,  Whose barks have been skinned,  Then buy me a pot, husband Don Juan,

And a stove to heat my bath­water.  And a one­man pot too  For our child’s umbilical cord.

And having procured all these, he trekked To the blackest mountain, upstream To fight the Igorots there.

And when her time came To deliver the blood made whole, There was not one who was not called:

The masseuse-midwife, the fish-hooker, Alisot; The diver Marcos; Pasho the rich man. Since none of them could induce delivery

They remembered the woman Shrivelled with age, For she was known for her strong fingers.

The baby started to talk as soon as the old woman delivered him. “Namungan, my mother,

“

“

And let old man Guibuan be my godfather.  Mother, I must also ask you if I have a father;  Whether or not I arose like water vapor.

My son, Lam­ang; if it’s your father you speak of,  You were still in my womb when he left,  Left for the forest, the place of Igorot.

Lam-ang then said: “My mother Namungan, please let your son go, For I would seek Father whom I came from.”

Ah, son, brave­man Lam-ang,  Please don’t go. 

For your legs are like bamboo string. 

 And your hands are like needles. 

And you were born, my son, 

Even before your ninth month inside me.

All the more brave-man Lam-ang still persisted. He left for the forest, the place of Igorots. For he wanted to see the father he sprang from.

For he had with him the stone of sagang, The stone of tangraban, of lao-laoigan, A wild carabao’s amulet. When he passed by a grove of caña vernal, The shoots bent down For he also had the amulet of the centipede.

And having reached the river’s ford, He spied the tallest tree around, a rancheria, A landmark of tattooed Igorot country.

He cast his eyes around And saw this root shaped like a stove And went to wash his one-man pot.

And placed his food inside it, The pot of mound-dwelling dwarves, That cannot suffice for more than one traveller.

Having eaten his fill, The man Lam-ang gratefully rested, Amiable host to the food, the filling grace.

He rested his shield against his body; Stuck his spear into the ground by his feet; Unsheathed his trustworthy campilan from its sheath;

Then fell into a light sleep. Then came the ghost of his father, saying: “My friends Lam-ang, go quickly instead;”

“Right now, they feast around you father’s skull.” Lam-ang was jolted out of his slumber And at once collected his weapons and started to go,

Walking on and on. Upon reaching the blackest mountain At Maculili and Dagman,

He went directly to the assembled revelers. For he had seen his father’s skull facing the East, Caged in the woven end of a bamboo pole.

Tattooed Igorots, just tell me  What foul thing my father I came from did.  It is only right that it be paid.

Our friend Lam­ang,  It is only right; too,  That you go back to the house

You stepped down from.  Or else, You’ll be the next (to die)  After the man who was your father.

You tattooed Igorots…  I cannot be satisfied (with your number),  You Igorot captain,

“You Bumacas so-named, Communicate (thru a letter) with every single one,” (The members of your tribe):

At Dardarat and Padang, There in houses at Nueva, Dagodong and Topaan, There in Mamo-ocan and Caoayan,

There in Tupinao and Baodan,  Sumbanggue and Luya, Bacong and Sosoba.  There in Tebteb and Caocaoayan.

They came, having received these notes (from Bumacas), In a rush, the tattooed Igorots, From the neighboring towns nearby,

Like chicken attracted to grains thrown to the ground. Oh, their number indeed was remarkable For one cannot keep count of their number.

He then caressed his stone of lao-laoigan, And jumped but once to an open field, The man Lam-ang.

And the man Lam-ang made thunderclaps With his armpits and thighs As well as with both his arms.

Soon they had crowded around him… As a moving river (of bobbing heads), so to speak… The man Lam-ang.

And having completely surrounded him, They cut loose on him with all their arms, On the man Lam-ang.

Like a torrential rain at dusk, The spears fell (thickly) on him, The man Lam-ang.

He embraced these crisscrossing spears As one would accept Betel nuts passed on to him.

And when the tattooed Igorots had run out Of sharpened bamboo poles, spears, lances, But could not hit him even just once,

The man Lam-ang said to them: “Now comes my turn, I unsheath you, campilan, trustworthy weapon.”

He struck the ground with this. And the earth with stuck to the blade of the campilan, This he ate—

A stick of rice cake So long and large— So their incantations would not affect him

“Tattooed Igorots, watch me closely now,” He beckoned to the south wind And with it lunged at once at them.

As though felling down banana trunks, His bolo bit into flesh two ways, swung left or right, The man Lam-ang.

They were mowed down in an instant. Only one tattooed Igorot was left unharmed, Whom he mocked at, then pinned down.

“Now comes your end.” He slashed at his mouth, his eyes; Cut off his ears, arms and legs.

He then let him loose, the tattooed Igorot, Who received no mercy at his hands. “That your relatives and tribe may all see you.”

And you carabao’s amulet (help me)  For I now bind the lances and spears,  My booty and trophy from the Igorot.

“And now I leave you battleground.” The blood flowed from the dead Igorots Like the Vigan river.

He prepared to leave, the man Lam-ang, and return, To his mother Namungan. And having reached the town of Nalbuan:

Mother Namungan, if I may ask,  What foulness he perpetrated,  The father I sprang from?

My son Lam­ang,  If it is your father your speak of,  We never quarrelled, not even once.

Mother Namungan, strike the longgan  That my younger sisters   May all come to my aid,

The maidens numbering twice nine,  Nine times nine.  That they may shampoo my curly locks

At the Amburayan River.  For it had become quite dusty,  During the day­long battle yesterday.

Mother Namungan,  Do let us pay a visit  To the old barn with molave posts,

Floored with derraan and polished bellaang.   And please ask them to sweep off the barn’s door,  The dead cockroaches, spiders, and their mess.

For nine years have passed  Since we last visited  Our palay called samusam,

Buan and laguingan,  Lumanus and lampadan,  Maratectec and macan, gaygaynet and balasang.

And having looked over the barn.  “Young maidens, pull out the panicles From each name (of rice variety).”

And thresh these.  And what grains one accumulates thus  Is already hers to keep.

And this was done. “Young sisters, bind the straws. Get also the coconut shell tong”

And pick some embers with it.  And younger sisters, please,  Return the charcoal later,

“For it is of paticalang wood. At the Amburayan River we shall bathe.” At the riverbank,

He cast his eyes around and soon saw The bubbles made by the crocodile. “My young sisters burn the rice straw.”

Since the straw would not burn, Lam-ang beckoned to the strongest wind— And the straw burst into flames.

The people of San Juan were alarmed By the sparks that reached them; The people of Bacnotan ran

Thinking there was a conflagration. And when they could not control the fire, He beckoned to the torrential rain

And the cloud shaped like a precipice. Lightning and thunder came in waves And only then was the fire extinguished.

He prepared to leave, the man Lam-ang, and return, To his mother Namungan. And having reached the town of Nalbuan:

Mother Namungan, if I may ask,  What foulness he perpetrated,  The father I sprang from?

My son Lam­ang,  If it is your father your speak of,  We never quarrelled, not even once.

Mother Namungan, strike the longgan  That my younger sisters   May all come to my aid,

The maidens numbering twice nine,  Nine times nine.  That they may shampoo my curly locks

At the Amburayan River.  For it had become quite dusty,  During the day­long battle yesterday.

Mother Namungan,  Do let us pay a visit  To the old barn with molave posts,

Floored with derraan and polished bellaang.   And please ask them to sweep off the barn’s door,  The dead cockroaches, spiders, and their mess.

For nine years have passed  Since we last visited  Our palay called samusam,

Buan and laguingan,  Lumanus and lampadan,  Maratectec and macan, gaygaynet and balasang."

“

And having looked over the barn.  “Young maidens, pull out the panicles From each name (of rice variety).”

And thresh these.  And what grains one accumulates thus  Is already hers to keep.

And this was done. “Young sisters, bind the straws. Get also the coconut shell tong”

And pick some embers with it.  And younger sisters, please,  Return the charcoal later,

“For it is of paticalang wood. At the Amburayan River we shall bathe.” At the riverbank,

He cast his eyes around and soon saw The bubbles made by the crocodile. “My young sisters burn the rice straw.”

Since the straw would not burn, Lam-ang beckoned to the strongest wind— And the straw burst into flames.

The people of San Juan were alarmed By the sparks that reached them; The people of Bacnotan ran

Thinking there was a conflagration. And when they could not control the fire, He beckoned to the torrential rain

And the cloud shaped like a precipice. Lightning and thunder came in waves And only then was the fire extinguished.

This is what the man Lam-ang said in turn: “Mother Namungan, of those you allude to, I cannot choose anyone,”

Not one of the maidens you speak of.  So please don’t detain me  For I must, will go.

My son Lam­ang, by God,  Please tarry longer.  For they may drench you.

“With foul-smelling urine… Spare yourself the embarrassment.” The white rooster then said,

As well as the yellow-legged hen: “Our mistress Namungan, we dreamt last night That Doña Ines Cannoyan”

“Cannot help becoming your daughter-in-law.” “Mother, please take out the oil Just heated yesterday”

So I may anoint my yellow­legged hen  And we may both look our best  When we go to the town of Calanutian.

“Mother, please hand me The nine coils of gold bulaoan.” And having received the gold coils,

He tied his white rooster And his hairy dog as well. And the task completed,

He prepared to leave. He carried his cock, the yellow-legged rooster. “May God remain with you.” “My son Lam­ang, God go with you;  Be careful, especially on your way there

Which you know to be more dangerous",

Having heard out the advice,  Lam-ang went his way To Calanutian, the town of Doña Ines Cannoyan.

He walked untiringly And midway to his destination, Encountered the man Sumarang.

Whose eyes were big as plates And whose nose was wide as two wheels. This is what he at once said:

My friend, brave­man Lam­ang,  Where are you headed for?  Which forest do you intend to trap in?

“Which mountain do you intend to hunt in? My friend Lam-ang?” Replied Lam-ang:

My friend Sumarang, may I also ask  Where you came from—  The town, the locality you visited?

Said Sumarang: “Since you ask me, I came from the north, The town of Calanutian.”

“I went there to compete For the hand of Doña Ines Cannoyan.” Lam-ang said:

Where you came from  There I also intend to go,  With the same purpose, my friend Sumarang.

And he added: “My friend Sumarang, We must now go our separate ways”

“For I must go now to Calanutian to compete— Who knows, I may be chosen by Doña Ines Cannoyan.” “You need not continue on your way”

You cannot be, with your looks,  One Doña Ines Cannoyan can possibly choose.  So many rich men and Spaniards are there already

And Doña Ines Cannoyan has yet  To look out her window for anyone.  I say it again: it is futile

“For you to continue your journey.” Sumarang (suddenly added): “Prepare your end”

And try defending yourself  From my spear—  It will be too bad if you can’t catch

“My hooked spear.” Said Lam-ang then: “Do what you will, I await your move.”

Sumarang threw his spear At his friend, Lam-ang Lam-ang caught it

With his little and ring finger As though it were betel nut Proferred by a maiden.

Then He twirled it nine times Around his neck and body. “My friend Sumarang  I will return to you your spear 

For I don’t want to be in your debt.

What you handed to me is too hot  Though its handle is cold  The handle of your spear.

My friend Sumarang  Now wait for its coming.  If you don’t beware,

Your corpse will be littered hereabout  By this weapon which now comes,  By your leave.

The brave-man Lam-ang, He waved at the seawinds. Then, simultaneously,

He let go of his spear. The man Sumarang was flown by the spear Across nine hills.

That’s how bad manners end up.  Friend Sumarang, now must I depart  From this, our battleground.

He carried his white rooster And prepared to leave. He had walked a long way

When he came across the house Of the maiden Saridandan. She said:

Older brother, do stop by.  Please hurry up  And let me embrace you.

For so long has she pined for you The woman Saridandan. Her eyes have grown tired

Keeping watch from this front window For your appearance. The betel leaves have since dried

“At the tray which held them In anticipation of your coming.” This is what Saridandan said.

Ah, woman Saridandan,  Try not to detain me any longer.  It would be futile.

“I must go to the town of Calanutian And try to meet Doña Ines Cannoyan.” Saridandan said:

“How could you do that older brother? Why can’t you accede to my request?” He prepared to go, the man Lam-ang

And soon, he approached the town Of Calanutian. So many were the competition

That one can easily lose sight Of one’s companion One can easily walk on the heads

Of the suitors Without missing a step It would be easy to plant palay

In the holes made by the spears on the ground One can even transplant rice there Since the sputum of the suitors were so thick

Lam-ang said (aloud to himself) “What should I do to approach  The erected outhouse”

“Where Doña Ines Cannoyan is wont To take a walk?” He opted to go between the legs

Of the massed suitors And the man Lam-ang finally Reached the middle of the yard.

He set down his chicken, the white rooster. It flapped its wings once And the outhouse fell into shambles,

Prodding Doña Ines Cannoyan to look Out her window. His hairy dog then howled

And the outhouse was restored: Worn parts became new; What was already torn was restored.

Her parents then said: “Our daughter Cannoyan, wear your best dress For your older brother Lam-ang is here.”

Dressed up, Doña Ines Cannoyan stepped down And walked to the outhouse towards Lam-ang. The Spaniards and the rich Ilocanos Were shamefaced when they saw her thus Cannoyan said: “Sir Lam-ang, walk faster, give me your hands.”

And let us embrace.  For the woman Ines Cannoyan  Has long pined for you.

And sir, let us go to your house  With the bamboo roof,  Which, being of the thin and delicate variety,

Can break beneath the hot sun  And therefore need the shade  Of 

Having gone up the hut: “Father, to whom I owe my life, Please bring out the golden chair”

“Plated with bulaoan gold Made by people from the north.” And everyone having taken a seat:

Mother Unnayan, to whom I owe my life,  Please cook some rice  On the pot for one.

A pot of ground­dwelling dwarves  Which can allow for others on their way  To share of its inexhaustible bounty

For it is only right  That we prepare food  For brave­man Don Lam­ang

Father to whom I owe my life  Please catch the caponed rooster  Fattened for my older brother Lam­ang.

The food cooked, they sat down To eat at the dining table Lam-ang and Ines Cannoyan ate

From the same plate with their fingers. Where Cannoyan pinched her food There also did Lam-ang.

And where Lam-ang sipped his soup, There also did Cannoyan. The luncheon over, Cannoyan said:

Mother Unnayan,  Please pick some fine betel leaves  Which smile when approached

So we may offer a chew  To older brother Lam­ang.  Mother, please roll, too,

“Some tabarcan tobacco Planted east of Cagayan.” This over, her parents spoke thus:

Our son Lam­ang, please tell us now  Why you came;  What you wish, what you desire.

The white rooster replied thus: “We have come to compete for the devotion Of your daughter, Ines Cannoyan.”

Respected elders,  Subject to your judgment,  We come to unite our families.

This is what it said, the yellow-legged rooster.  And the old man and woman replied thus: “Our son Lam-ang”

If you can fulfill  All that we assign to you  You can marry our Cannoyan;

If your means allow you   To match the wealth  We shall enumerate for you.

The yellow-legged hen said: “If what’s what you say, respected elders,  Lam-ang is prepared to meet”

“All your desires and requirements.” “My son Lam-ang, Look around you.”

Let the footpath be of gold  At the middle of the yard;  The butchering blocks, too.

And my son Lam-ang, Look at the entirety Of the front yard;

There are two carved roosters; Four carved hens, two shrimps. Swimming upstream, as it were.

Let these be all of gold. Now, my son Lam-ang, Cast your gaze now

And imagine two pomelos Also of pure bulaoan gold— These are Cannoyan’s playthings.

And also these spinning paraphernalia, The tectec and the gagan-ayan, And the gong, the longgangan, too,

And all the clotheslines— Let these all be  Of bulaoan gold.

Cannoyan’s mother then added: “Our son Lam-ang, do marry Cannoyan, If you can match all that we have told you.”

Lam-ang in turn said: “Mother Unnayan, What you have told me to match”

Cannot exhaust my inheritance;  Not even just the stocks in my fishponds  If sold wholesale.

And I have in mind  Only the fishpond  Other than those I expropriated

From the Igorots I conquered.  It is not even a ninth part  Of my inheritance

From my great grandfathers Both paternal and maternal. But should the man Lam-ang still fall short,

I still have two boats of bulaoan gold That periodically ferry chinaware Direct from China.

For the king of Puan-puan,  of China, Is my relative and friend,

Right now, one of my boats, a sampan, I believe is on its way back With its chinaware cargo.

This is what they then said: “Our son Lam-ang, it is only right,  That you go back now”

To the house you stepped down from  At the town of Nalbuan  So you may inform your mother.

Lam-ang then answered: “Respected benefactor And you (gracious) Unnayan,”

When I return, you shall hear  The cannon I shall fire  At Sabangan.

Lam-ang than bade them well And walked briskly to his town, Nalbuan, The man Lam-ang.

The woman Cannoyan then said: “Father to whom I owe my life And mother Unnayan,”

“

“

“

Do let us decorate the streets please  Till Sabangan  Just as we do during Corpus Christi.

Then they said to Cannoyan, Both her father and mother: “Daughter Cannoyan, all your wishes shall be done.”

Soon, Lam-ang arrived at his hometown, Nalbuan. “My mother Namungan How are you at my arrival?”

“I am back from Calanutian.” “My son Lam-ang, God is merciful indeed And this cannot be repaid.”

Your mother is hale and strong.  Now must I ask about your trip—  What came of it.

The yellow-legged rooster said: “Cannoyan is now  Your daughter-in-law.”

Then said Lam-ang: “Please strike the longgangan, the gong To summon all our townmates.”

That they may ride our two boats  And fill it, too, with bowls and plates;  Big and small pans.

“And drinking glasses Which can double as mirrors.” When his townmates had assembled,

Lam-ang made an announcement. “Townmates, please come to my wedding feast; We will all ride in my two boats.”

And when the needed things had been loaded: “My townmates, please go on board one by one.”

When each one had boarded the boat,

Each of his townmates, Then spoke Lam-ang again: “Namungan, my mother,”

Please take with you all  Those that Cannoyan shall wear:  The slippers embroidered with bulaoan

As well as her mounted ring.  Take also the two combs  And her two bracelets.

His mother took all these And wrapped them for Cannoyan, He daughter-in-law, to wear.

“Mother, let us go now on board One of the ships.” Once on board the boat,

The sails were at once unfurled. Since there was no wind, the ships refused to budge. Lam-ang gave the rear of each a slap

And at once, Both ships were launched. Near Sabangan,

Lam-ang fired a salvo To let Doña Ines Cannoyan  Know of their arrival.

Cannoyan at once said: “Father to whom I owe my life And my mother Unnayan,”

My older brother, the man Lam­ang, has come—  I heard his signal fired from Sabangan.  Let us now hasten to meet the brave­man Lam­ang.

They hastened To the cheeks of Sabangan bay. And by the time they arrived there,

The brave-man Lam-ang Was already there waiting. “Hurry up, now, give me your hands.”

For the woman Cannoyan  Missed you so much.  Let all your relatives and townmates

Disembark at once  And wear the clothes I prepared for them—  What one wears, she may keep,

Announced Cannoyan To Lam-ang’s townmates. The two mothers-in-law met

And Namungan deferred To the other thus: “My sister, Madam Unnayan,”

It is only proper that we return  To the house you came down from;  At your town, Calanutian.

They left for the house They came down from. And their arrival marked the end

Of Lam-ang’s formal wooing Of Cannoyan. Came Monday morning

And Ines donned her best clothes: Her embroidered slippers; Her mounted ring;

Her five combs and two bracelets. So also did Lam-ang wear his best: Embroidered trousers,

Dyed shirt and serrated handkerchief. And as they stepped down the stairs The band played.

The joyous ringing of the bells— A mingling of low and high notes— Signalled their journey to the church.

The parish priest met them at the churchyard. And soon, the ceremonies of coin and veils Were done.

The mass over, They stood up and went out, The man Lam-ang and woman Cannoyan.

“Sister, my friend, Let us commence the procession.” A gun barked with every step of Ines.

The gun of Lam-ang created A shade of smoke. And when the wedding party reached home,

A multitude trooped as on a field To the feast of Lam-ang. The Calanutian folks

Soon, all were dancing, Together with the townmates of Lam-ang. Soon, everyone was dancing

Fandango and sagamantica. Soon, the refreshments Were exhausted.

The cooks, by then, were ready And laid out the buffet tables: “All of you, townmates,”

“Come and partake Of the grace all laid out for you.” And the townmates of Lam-ang and Cannoyan

Ate on the same tables. “Listen to what I say— One may keep his plate.”

“Even wrap up food to take home.” The meal over, The townspeople doubled back to the dancefloor.

My friend Lam­ang.  May I see you walk again;  How you carry yourself.

Should you be less than perfect,   I have the mind  To give you back to your mother.

Let us repair  To the newly constructed outhouse  And there show me how you walk.

The woman Cannoyan, When they had gone upstairs, Again teased him.

Respected Lam­ang  May I see how you walk;  How you carry yourself.

If your manner of walking fails to impress me,  I shall certainly return you  To the care of your mother.

He took five steps And Cannoyan then said: “Respected Lam-ang,”

How ungainly you look  Your trousers threaten to fall  And your bowlegs

“Make you sluggish.” “Madam Ines Cannoyan, it is the deportment Of rich men of Nalbuan you see—” “One I am accustomed to affect  With its air of wealth. 

“And now Madam Ines Cannoyan,

Let me see how you walk;  The way you look  When you walk.

She took five steps, too. Then this is what he said, The man Lam-ang.

Madam, Doña Ines Cannoyan,  I also don’t like your deportment:  Your feet go every which way

“And your bottom thrusts out too far in front.” Then came the two mothers-in-law. Saying to each other.

I would like to know  If her habits are sensible,  Your child, my daughter­in­law.

Unnayan said: “Expect her when the moon is new If she goes out at full moon.”

When she fetches water from the river.  She mistakes every drifting leaf for crayfish  And turns every stone by the river.

Unnayan asked in turn: “May I also ask about your son, The man Lam-ang, my son-in-law.”

“Speaking of Lam­ang, my sister, my friend,  If he leaves when the moon is new,  He returns when the moon is full. If he goes to the forest,  He places cloth beneath every bamboo grove  And there sleeps.

And then, Unnayan said: “My sister, my friend, It’s time to go to your home.”

The townmates of Lam-ang and Cannoyan All went to Sabangan To board the two ships.

All aboard and the sails set, The boats refused to move Till Lam-ang slapped their sterns.

Back in Nalbuan, Everyone disembarked And went to the house of Namungan.

The townspeople of bride and groom Dance again. Then, they honored Ines Cannoyan

And the man Lam-ang A dance All to themselves.

Then they all danced anew The fandango, waltz and curcha, As well as the sagamantica of Pangasinan.

They soon dispersed And Doña Ines Cannoyan stayed behind For her mother left without her.

And when Cannoyan’s townfolk had gone, The incumbent captain Paid the new couple a visit.

"My friend Lam-ang,  your turn has come To dive for shellfish called rarang.

When the Captain had left, This is what the brave-man Lam-ang Said with a sigh:

My wife Cannoyan  I have been chosen  To dive for shellfish called rarang.

I have dreamt  That I shall doubtless be eaten  By the shark tioan­tioan.

I shall give you a sign;  The stairs shall dance;  The kitchen shall collapse;

“The stove shall break to pieces.” When morning came, Lam-ang prepared to leave.

Reaching an ideal spot, He undressed and swam To where the rarang abounds.

He looked through the crystal waters Then dived for the shellfish But failed in his first try.

Surfacing, he tried once more to locate them And having seen some Dived once more—

Right into the mouth Of the fish, A big tioan-tioan shark,

And the signs came to pass: The stairs danced; The kitchen collapsed;

The stone broke to pieces. The woman Cannoyan Then wept.

y husband on Lamang here can you be now. here is none  can hire

“To look for you.” The woman Cannoyan then sought help And found Macros, the dier.

She then tied the white rooster, The yellow-legged hen, The woman annoyan.

She also leashed the hairy dog with the burly looks Then cradled the white rooster.

She let and soon reached the spot here his clothes were. There at the spot where Lam-ang was,

Cannoyan cried, overwhelmed by sorrow. The cock comforted her thus

Mistress dont you worry. Master Lamang certainly shall lie if they can locate his bones.

The dear, old man Marcos, Died then. But he failed to find the bones.

The second time he died, He found the bones here the shark had expelled them.

The cock said “Sir, take all the bones and beach them:

 None should be missing.”

And when no more bones could be found, The ok examined the bones closely. He found nothing missing.

The bones o Lam-ang Having been completed, This is what he said

 shall turn my back while you cover the bones with your skirt.

The yellow-legged hen rowed The rooster shook its wings. And the bones started to moe.

The dog with the burly looks Howled twice Then clawed the ground

As though to bury the bones of Lam-ang. Then the man Lam-ang Got-up at one.

How soundly  slept my wife Canoyan. Its been seen nights  since we last slept together.

our sleep you say hen the shark only expelled your bones. And all the signs you told me about

Were cause for my weeping  For I couldn’t bear it,  Couldn’t bear losing you.

Dear Husband Don Lam­ang  Give me your hand:  The woman Cannoyan missed you so much,

“The wife whom you left.”  They fainted together,  Like trees fallen

With excessive longing, Even Don Lam-ang, For he missed his Cannoyan so much.

The man Lam-ang then expressed joy At seeing once more his cock And his hairy dog, kissing them both.

“

Their longing sated, They prepared to leave. “That we may reach the house”

“We came down from” Once there, Lam-ang said: “It is only right to repay”

The old man, the diver.  My wife Cannoyan,  Give him a pile of coins taller than he is.

This is how it ended, the life of Lam-ang. Now, let me greet all of you present In this (recounting) of the life of Lam-ang.