Fancy The Minstrel Poem by Jose Antonio Cangco

They call it lovers' quarrel,
Old townfolks, keen observers at a distance,
Silent, prophetic, they dwell
On us, the young, hence we ask from them guidance.

We helped each other grow up,
And talked of always being childhood sweethearts,
A brown castle with a nice garden made up
Of trickling sand, oyster shards,

And of sunbleached shells. Above
Seventeen, I believed in our tradition
That we got the lovers' love,
'Twas nurtured in style and raised to devotion.

On the island, we always
Met at the beach where the first silence is crisp,
We divined the coming days
As happy, our old age brisk.

You confessed that you must fly
For the city, yet, attended by heartaches
I gave the fondest goodbye,
As steady as float until the water breaks.

Now, we are separated
Over distance, sentiments, by lovers' quarrel;
Old Moon illuminated
The jewel in me: I sent you a minstrel.