the Moon People
"Tawo nin Bulan" to refer to "Moon People." also just simple called Tawong Lipod (spirits,ect)
Folktale from Bicol
In the ancient times before the Earth existed, there was only one realm—the Moon. On this shadowy world, two races coexisted: the pale-skinned rulers and the dark-skinned servants. The rulers were ethereal beings, their alabaster skin gleaming under the cold moonlight, with hair spun from pure gold. They lived in towering cities of silver. The servants, smaller and darker, lurked in the forests, hidden in caves, tasked with caring for a vast and twisted garden of strange, fragrant blooms and fruits that bled sweet juices when torn.
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| Tawo nin Bulan |
Each year, the Moon people held a haunting celebration for their young maidens. When the girls reached eighteen, they were summoned to the garden on a full moon night in May. There, they sang eerie songs, their voices echoing through the hollow lands, and danced beneath the silver sky until the first light of dawn. The city reveled, yet always there was a creeping sense of something dark stirring beneath their joy.
But one night, the ground trembled. A violent quake split the Moon in two, tearing apart the planet’s core. One half of the Moon, along with the servants and their cursed garden, was sent drifting into the void of space. It was lost for centuries until the Moon’s wise seers discovered that their missing half had reformed into a distant world. They named it "Earth"—the broken twin of the Moon. And so, drawn by the lure of what was once theirs, the Moon people began to visit Earth, curious about the fate of the stolen garden.
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| Tawo nin Bulan |
When the full moon came in May, the maidens of the Moon descended upon the unsuspecting Earth, choosing a night when mortals also celebrated. They danced, laughed, and returned to their home, untouched by Earth’s presence. Yet year after year, they came again, never knowing that the dark forests of Earth hid watching eyes—the humans who were half of what they once were.
The people of the forest were captivated by the ghostly visitors. An old man, grizzled and wise, whispered to the young men of the village, "They come every full moon in May. Beware the Moon’s daughters, for they are not as innocent as they seem." And so, one night, the Earth’s men prepared, eager to see these strange beings and learn their secrets.
As the moon rose, glowing like a cursed jewel, the winds howled. "They are near," whispered one of the men, his voice trembling. Soon, haunting melodies floated down from the sky. They watched, mesmerized, as the Moon maidens, clad in pale robes, their golden hair flowing like rivers of molten metal, descended to Earth.
The maidens danced slowly, their feet not touching the ground, circling an ancient, twisted tree in the garden. As the sky’s music swirled, each maiden approached the tree, reaching into her chest and pulling forth something glowing and red. It was their hearts. One by one, they hung their hearts on the branches, then returned to their spectral dance, light as whispers in the wind.
But as the maidens bathed in a nearby stream, the men crept from their hiding places and stole the hearts, their hands shaking as they took what was never meant for mortal touch.
When the maidens returned to the tree, their eyes turned wide with terror. "Our hearts! Stolen! We are doomed without them!" they wailed, their voices sharp as knives in the night air.
Hearing their cries, one of the men, feeling a pang of guilt, approached. "What has happened?" he asked.
"Our hearts are gone!" a maiden cried. "We left them here so we would not lose ourselves in this mortal realm."
"Without them, we will fade... we will die," another whispered, her voice breaking.
"Perhaps the spirits of the forest have taken them," the man lied, knowing full well it was he and his companions. "We will help you, but there is a price."
Desperate, the maidens begged, "Anything! Just return our hearts to us."
The men huddled together, and after much debate, they returned with a wicked plan. "If you stay here with us, live among us for one year, your hearts will be returned," the man said.
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| Tawong Lipod |
The maidens hesitated, their fear deepening. "Better to die than be trapped here in this cursed place," one maiden said, her eyes dark with anger. But another, resigned to their fate, said softly, "We have no choice. One year will pass quickly."
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| Tawong lipod |
And so the men returned the stolen hearts. One by one, the maidens reclaimed them, pressing them back into their chests, their faces pale and cold. The villagers rejoiced, for now each man had a beautiful, otherworldly companion. But the maidens' smiles were hollow, their eyes distant. They were prisoners in this strange world.
The year passed quickly, and as the next May approached, the maidens spoke softly to the men, "Soon, the full moon will rise again. We must return to the tree where our hearts once hung."
The men, thinking the women had grown fond of Earth, agreed. On the night of the full moon, they gathered near the twisted tree, but something had changed. Golden fruits now hung from the branches where the hearts once swayed.
"What are those?" the men asked, their greed showing.
"These are the fruits of the Moon," the maidens replied.
The men eagerly peeled the fruits and tasted the sweet nectar. But as they savored the taste, a dark wind whipped through the forest. When they looked up, the maidens were gone, vanished into the night like smoke. All that remained were the seeds of the strange fruit—cold, dark, and lifeless in their hands.
The men were left with nothing but the bitter remains of the maidens’ trickery, and the eerie whisper of the wind echoed one final warning: “Beware the daughters of the Moon, for they never truly belong to this world.”
And so, the tale of the Moon people was passed down—a warning to never take what belongs to the otherworldly, lest you too become cursed to live among the shadows.
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| Tawo nin Bulan |
The Tale of the Moon People
This is an old tale, passed down through generations by word of mouth.
In ancient times, when the Earth did not yet exist, there was only one planet—the Moon. On this planet, two races of people lived: the white people, who were the masters, and the black people, who were the servants. The white people were beautiful, with fair skin and golden hair, and they lived in grand cities. The black people, smaller and darker in complexion, lived in caves in the forest and served as caretakers of a magnificent garden filled with fragrant flowers and delicious fruits.
Every year, it was a tradition for the Moon people to hold a feast for their young maidens. When the girls turned eighteen, they would be gathered in the garden on a full moon night in May, where they would sing, dance, and play music until dawn. The entire city celebrated with joy.
One day, a great earthquake shook the Moon, causing the planet to split in two. Half of it, including the garden and the servants, drifted away into space. Over time, the wise people of the Moon realized that the missing part of their planet had found its way to another place. They named this new place "Earth," meaning "The Other Half of the Moon." Eventually, they decided to visit Earth, curious about the garden's fate.
When the full moon came in May, the maidens of the Moon journeyed to Earth, coinciding with the Earth’s own May festivities. After performing their traditional rites, they returned to the Moon, unharmed. From that moment on, they visited Earth each year on the night of the full moon, unaware that Earth had living people—humans—who inhabited their planet's other half.
The forest dwellers on Earth noticed these strange visitors and their celebrations. An old man from the forest remarked, “Every year, when the full moon shines in May, these moon fairies visit us.” Intrigued, the young men of the forest made a plan to witness the return of these mysterious visitors.
When May arrived again, the young men of the forest were prepared. Before sunset, they went to the plains near the forest and saw the Moon people descending from the sky.
As the full moon rose, casting a golden glow, the wind began to hum. “They are coming,” one of the watchers said. Soon, the sound of music and singing could be heard. The men watched in amazement as the maidens, dressed in milk-white garments with golden hair flowing down their backs, floated gracefully down from the sky.
The Moon maidens continued to descend slowly, surrounding a large tree in the center of the garden. Once they reached the ground, they sang and danced around the tree as heavenly music played from above. After some time, they each approached the tree, removed something from their chests, and hung it on the branches. They then resumed their graceful dancing, their movements as light as clouds drifting over the grass. As dawn approached, they stopped and went to bathe in a silver-like stream nearby.
While the maidens bathed, the forest dwellers crept toward the tree and took the objects the maidens had hung on its branches. They then quickly hid.
When the maidens finished their bath, they were joyful—until they returned to the tree and found their precious items missing. In distress, they cried out, “Stolen! Stolen! We are doomed without our hearts!” Their cries were heard by the young men who had taken the items.“Let’s return them,” one of the men said sympathetically. “Poor things,” another added. But some disagreed, suggesting, “They should pay for them.” A young man approached the maidens and asked, “What happened to you?” One of the maidens responded, “Our hearts have been stolen! We left them hanging on the tree.”
“Your hearts? You left your hearts on the tree?” the man asked, confused.
“Yes, when we travel far from home, we remove our hearts so we don’t lose track of time,” the maiden explained.
“The forest spirits must have taken them,” the man replied. “Please, have mercy and help us,” the maidens begged.
The young man replied, “Wait here... I will speak with the forest spirits and return shortly.”
The forest dwellers held a meeting, and one suggested, “If the maidens agree to live on Earth for a year, we will give back what we took.” Many others agreed, saying, “That’s a good idea.”
The young man returned to the maidens and said, “Your hearts are with the forest spirits. They will return them if you agree to stay with us on Earth for a year.”
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| Tawo nga Lipod |
“It’s better to die than live here,” one maiden declared. But another suggested, “We should agree—this is our fate. One year will soon pass.”
The men of the forest brought out the stolen hearts and returned them to the maidens. Each maiden gratefully took her heart and placed it back in her chest.
The people of Earth rejoiced, for each man now had a maiden companion. They took the maidens to their homes, and their lives were filled with happiness. Days passed quickly, months came and went, and before long, it was nearly May again. The maidens reminded their companions, “When the full moon returns, we must visit the tree where we once hung our hearts.”
The men agreed, in memory of the joyful year they had spent together. On the night of the full moon, they all gathered near the tree. As they approached, the men noticed golden fruits hanging from the branches.
“What are those?” the men asked.
“Those are the fruits of the Moon,” the maidens replied.
The maidens peeled the fruit and let the men taste it. “Sweet! Delicious!” the men exclaimed.
As the men savored the fruit, a great gust of wind suddenly swept through the area. When they looked up, the maidens were gone—whisked away like smoke in the wind. All that remained were the mango seeds, left as a reminder of the maidens from the Moon.
ANG PUSO NG MGA DALAGA
(Kwentong bayan/Bicol)
Salin ni Ms. Lilia F. Realubit
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| Tawo nin Bulan |
Noong unang panahong wala pa ang mundo at isa lamang ang planeta – ang buwan. Sa planetang ito dalawang lahi ng tao ang nakatira, ang taong puti at ang taong itim. Ang mga puti ang Panginoon at iyong mga itim ang utusan. Ang mga puti ay magaganda: maputi ang kulay ng balat at ang buhok ay kulay ginto. Nakatira sila sa lunsod. Ang mga utusan ay sa kuweba ng kagubatan nakatira. Sila’y maliliit at maiitim na tao. Sila ang tagapag-alaga ng maganda at malaking hardin. May iba-ibang mababangong bulaklak at masasarap na bungangkahoy sa halamanan.
Ang mga taga-buwan ay may kaugalian na bigyan ng salu-salo ang mga dalaga. Taon-taon, pagdating ng mga dalaga sa edad na labingwalong taon, tinatawag at iniipon sila roon sa hardin. Ito’y kung kabilugan ng buwan sa Mayo. Sila ay tumutugtog, kumakanta, sumasayaw hanggang sa umumaga. Ang buong bayan ay masaya.
Isang araw na hindi inaasahan, lumindol nang malakas sa buwan. Nabiyak ang planeta at ang hardin ay nawala. Ang mga utusan ay nakasama sa kalahating nabiyak. Sa tagal ng panahon, nalaman ng mga matatalinong tao sa buwan na ang iyong kabiyak ng planeta ay lulutang-lutang sa ibang lugar. Tinawag nila ito ng “lupa” – na ang ibig sabihin, “Kabiyak ng buwan.” Hindi nagtagal, naisip ng mga taga-buwan na dalawin ang
lupa. Nakita nila na iyong magandang hardin ay naroon sa lupa at mabuti ang kalagayan. Madali itong puntahan kung iibigin. Kaya sila’y nagbalak na dumalaw sa lupa sa pagbibilog ng buwan.
Pagdating ng Mayo nagsipunta ang mga dalaga sa lupa. Itinaon nila sa pista ng
Mayo. Pagkatapos na magawa ang dating kaugalian bumalik sila sa buwan na walang
anumang masamang nangyari. Mula noon sila ay dumadalaw sa lupa taun-taon pagbibilog
ng buwan sa gabi. Hindi nila alam na may mga buhay na tao sa lupa, na kalahati ng
kanilang buwan.
Nakikita ng mga tao sa gubat ang pagdalaw ng mga taga-buwan. Malaking
pagtataka para sa kanila iyong mga kasayahan ng taga-buwan. Sabi ng isang matandang
taga-gubat: “Taun-taon pagbilog ng buwan kung Mayo nagsisipunta rito sa lupa ang mga
engkanto.” Naisipan ng mga binatang taga-lupa na abangan ang pagbabalik na muli ng
mga engkanto.
Dumating ang Mayo. Handa ang mga taga-lupa sa pagbibilog ng buwan, Hapon pa
lamang, nagsipunta n sila sa gubat at nakita nila sa malawak na kapatagan ang pagbasa ng
mga taga-buwan.
Ang mga taga-buwan ay handa rin sa pagpunta sa lupa. Nang sumikat ang buwan,
ito’y parang gintong bola. Nang malapit nang bumaba sa lupa ang mga taga-buwan,
umugong ang hangin. “Parang sila na iyan,” sabi ng isang nagbabantay. Mayamaya,
narinig ang tugtog ng musika at mga tining ng kumakanta. “Ayan na,” sabi nila. Pagdating
nila sa langit nakita nilang lumilipad sa harap ng hardin ang mga dalaga na kasimputi ng
gatas ang mga damit at nakalugay ang buhok na parang gintong sinulid.
Tuloy ang tugtog ng musika habang dahan-dahang naglilibot pababa ang mga
dalaga. Isa-isa silang bumaba sa lupa at pinaligiran ang isang puno na nasa gitna ng
hardin. Nang nasa lupa na ang lahat ng dalaga, sila ay sumayaw at kumanta sa paligid ng
punong kahoy. Ang musikang galing sa langit ay hindi humihinto.
Tumigil sila sa pagsasayaw at isa-isang lumapit sa punongkahoy. Mayroon silang
kinuha sa dibdib at ito’y isinabit sa mga sanga ng kahoy. Pagkatapos nito, itinuloy nila ang
sayaw. Mahuhusay silang kumilos na parang mga puting alapaap na lumilipad sa ibabaw ng
sodang alpombra. Mag-umaga na, huminto sila at pumunta sa sapa na ang tubig ay parang
pilak at doon sila naligo. Samantala ang mga taga-gubat naman ay tumakbo palapit sa
kahoy at kinuha ang isinabit doon ng mga dalaga at nagtago silang muli.
Pag-ahon ng mga dalaga sa sapa, sila ay masasaya. Ngunit nang kukunin na nila
iyon mga isinabit nila sa puno hindi na nila ito makita. Hinanap nila sa paligid pero wala rin.
“Ninakaw! Ninakaw!” ang kanilang sigaw. “Mamamatay tayo dahil wala ang mga puso
natin.” Ang kanilang iyak at ang mga panambitan ay narinig ng mga nagnakaw. “Isauli
natin, “ sinabi noon mga naawa. “Kawawa naman, sabi ng isa. “Kailangan pabayaran
natin,” pahayag ng iba. Lumapit ang isang binata sa mga baba at nagtanong. “Ano ang
nangyari sa inyo?” “Ninakaw ang aming puso na iniwan naming sa punong itong,” ang sagot
ng isang babae. “Ano? Puso ninyo, iniwan ninyo sa puno?” ang tanong ng lalaki. “Oo, dahil
kung kami ay naglalakbay sa malayong lugar, inilalabas naming ang puso upang hindi
naming makalimutan ang oras.” “Mga duwende ang kumuha ng puso ninyo,” tugon ng
lalaki. “Maawa kayo sa amin. Tulungan ninyo kami,” ang pagmamakaawa ng mga babae.
“Hintay kayo. . . hahanapin ko ang mga duwende. . . . babalik ako kaagad,” sabi nga lalaki.
Nag-usap-usap ang mga taga-kuweba. Sabi nila: “Kung ang mga babae ay
papayag na tumira sa lupa ng isang taon, ibibigay natin ang mga kinuha natin.” May mga
sumang-ayon: “Mabuting kaisipan iyan,” ang sabi naman ng iba.
Bumalik ang lalaki sa kinaroroonan ng mga babae. “Naroon sa mga duwende ang
mga puso ninyo. Kaya lang, isasauli daw nila sa inyo kung kayo ay payag na tumira dito sa
amin sa loob ng isang taon. “Mabuti pa ang mamatay kaysa tumirang buhay dito,” sabi ng
isang babae. “Dapat sumang-ayon tayo sa kanilang hinihingi,” tugon ng isa, :ito an ating
kapalaran. Ang isang taon ay katapusan.”
Lumabas ang mga lalaki na dala ang mga kinuha nilang mga puso. Isa-isang ibinalik
nila ito sa mga babae, at bawat isang babae naman ay natutwang kinuha ang kanilang puso
at ipinasok sa kanilang dibdib.
Masaya ang mga taga-Lupa dahil ang bawat isa sa kanila ay may makakasamang
isang dalaga. Dinala nila ang mga babae sa kuweba ngunit nagreklamo ang mga ito.
“Mamamatay kami kapag tumira dito sa kuweba. Kaya sa mga bahay sila nanirahan,
Masaya ang buhay nila. Dumaan ang mga araw. Mabilis ang takbo ng panahon;
dumating at lumipas ang mga buwan. “Hindi maglalaon at darating na ang buwan ng Mayo,”
sabi ng mga babae sa mga lalaki. “Pagdating ng Mayo, “sa pagbibilog ng buwan, dadalawin
natin ang punong sinabitan naming ng mga puso naming noong isang taon.” Pumayag ang
mga lalaki bilang alaala ng mapalad na taon nila. Noong gabing iyon nang magbilog ang
buwan, nagsama-sama sila sa pagdalaw sa puno. Nang sila’y papalapit na sa punong
kahoy nakita ng mga lalaki ang mga gintong bungang nakasabit sa mga sanga. “Ano iyan?”
ang tanong ng mga lalaki. “Iyan ang mga bungang kahoy sa buwan,” sagot ng mg babae.
Tinalupan nilosong bunga at pinatikman sa mga lalaki. Matamis! Masarap! “sabi ng mga
lalaki.
Habang sinisipsip ng mga lalaki ang tamis ng mangga, isang malakas na ragasa ng
hangin ang kanilang narining. Nang itaas ang kanilang mga mata, wala na ang mga babae.
Dinakot sila ng hangin at nawalan parang usok. Ang buto ng mangga ang naiwan sa kanila
– alaala ng mga dalaga.
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