I first encountered this little poem by A. E. Housman narrated over the final moments of the 1971 film Walkabout. Short but deeply moving, it has haunted me in various seasons of life, especially lately. I felt a compulsion to render it in Tagalog.
Like many overeducated Filipinos of my station, I'm poorly read and barely literate in my own country's tongue, and offer the above in blissful ignorance of my own stupidity. All I know is that, in its less pedestrian forms, it is an exceedingly dignified language, naturally musical and given to poetry.
A few remarks:
Regarding meter, Tagalog is more verbose than English, so reproducing the original exactly is a fool's errand. The English text is economical and quite precise metrically, but the accents can be fairly approximated; each quatrain alternates between lines of four and three accents, which I have preserved, with some liberties taken.
An air that kills: The Tagalog mapaminsala is closer to "devastating" than "that kills", but the literal nakamamatay (deadly) or pumapatay (killing) has a sensational and vulgar effect.
Blue remembered hills: Impossible to do both well and exactly; mga burol na bughaw sa alaala literally means "hills that are blue in memory," but is close enough in spirit.
What spires, what farms: This evocative, musical line is my favorite. I settled on a contracted form of what I would have preferred – Anong mga tore, anong kabukiran? – which, in isolation, mirrors the English more closely, but disrupts the meter.
Land of lost content: "Content," with its vague usage, is the single most challenging word in the poem. I have settled on galak for musical reasons, even though it's closer to "joy." Tagalog nouns like galak have a base, short form, which (to my mind) feels more abstract and ideal; and one that is more concrete and earthly, e.g., kagalakan (think, for instance, of the distinction between "joy" and "joyousness"). The former feels right in spirit, despite not being literally exact.
I see it shining plain: My rendering is liberal and literally means "clear to my sight," but 1) paningin is easier to rhyme with anything, and 2) the double meaning of maliwanag, which can be both "radiant" and "clear," is too good to pass up.
Happy highways: I wish I could reproduce the alliteration, but this is the best I can come up with right now. Lansangan means street (there is no exact Tagalog for "highway"), and I wavered between it and landas (path); but the former is more specific and less passé when paired with tinahak (went through).