Mumbles of forebears, a channel’s constant stream
In every cadence, a moonlit echo gleam.
Kindred’s drapery, threads of primitive lore,
All souls entangled, aiming for something more.
Ripple of nuances, on linguistic coast they split,
Pearlescent echoes, for harmony’s candied profit.
Codes to comprehension, unleashing every heart,
The chorus ascending, sporting a cardinal part.
Cordial embraces braided, in each uttered word,
In Bayanihan spirit, good orchestra is discerned.
Lineage beyond frontier, a household prime and wide,
Dreads relinquished, with our mother tongue as guide.
Intellect beacon, soothing amidst the darkness,
Every language, a bonfire flaring with brightness.
Impeding our substance, a thriving, igniting flame,
All voices mingling, proclaiming our nation’s name.