Factors Affecting the Academic Performance of Selected Working Student

Only available on StudyMode
  • Topic: Like You, Mary J. Blige
  • Pages : 156 (51694 words )
  • Download(s) : 1321
  • Published : January 30, 2013
Open Document
Text Preview
Leona Florentino (April 19,1849)•National poetess•Father: Don Marcelo Florentino-richest man in the ilokos during those days.•Mother: Dona Isabel Florentino cousin of her father.•Born with a rich and influential family in vigan, ilocos Sur.•Died at the age of 35•She never attend collage•Married to Elias delos Reyes at the age of 14, and they have five children•She was included in the encyclopedia international des oeuvres des femmes (international encyclopedia of women’s works) in 1889. She is believed to be the first Filipino to receive this international recognition, a homage that occurred only after her untimely death.•She was a satirist, a better satirist than a poet of love.|

Nalpay A Namnama
By: Leona Florentino

Amangan a ragsak ken talecta
Dagiti adda caayanayatda
Ta add piman mangricna
Cadagiti isuamin a asugda

Ni gasatco a nababa
Aoanen ngatat capadana
Ta cunac diac agduadua
Ta agdama ngarud nga innac agsagba

Ta nupay no agayatac
Iti maysa a imnas
Aoan lat pangripripiripac
Nga adda pacaibatugac

Ilunodconto ti horas
Nga innac pannacayanac
Ta mamenribo a naseseat
No natayac idin ta nayanacac

Gayagayec coma a ipalaoag
Ngem bumdeng toy dilac
A ta maguiatac a sibabatad
No natayac din ta nayanacac

Ngem umanayto a liolioac
Ti pannacaammon itoy a panagayat
Ta icaric kenka ken isapatac
Nga sica aoan sabali ti pacatayac.

Jose Villa Garcia:•He was born 1908 and died 1987•He was a poet, critic, story written and painter•On June 12,1973- he was a national artist literature•Critically written in English and he won several awards because of his short stories and poems.|

God Said “I made A Man”
By: Jose Villa Garcia

God said I made a man oil of clay
But so bright he, he spun himself to the brightest day.

Till he was all shining gold and oh
He was handsome to behold!
But in his hands held he a bow
Aimed at me who created him

And I said wouldst murder me
Who am they fountain head?
Then spole he the man of gold:
I will not murder thee, I do but measure thee.

Hold they peace!”
And this I did but I was curious of this regal
“give thy name!- “ sir! Genius.”

Amador T. Daguio was born in 1912 in Mountain province which because the setting for most of his stories. * He studies at the University of the Philippines and took U.P graduate course at Stanford University. * His has been included in many Anthologies.|

The Wedding Dance
By: Amador Daguio
Awiyao reached for the upper horizontal log which served as the edge of the headhigh threshold. Clinging to the log, he lifted himself with one bound that carried him across to the narrow door. He slid back the cover, stepped inside, then pushed the cover back in place. After some moments during which he seemed to wait, he talked to the listening darkness. “I’m sorry this had to be done. I am really sorry. But neither of us can help it.” The sound of the gangsas beat through the walls of the dark house like muffled roars of falling waters. The woman who had moved with a start when the sliding door opened had been hearing the gangsas for she did not know how long. There was a sudden rush of fire in her. She gave no sign that she heard Awiyao, but continued to sit unmoving in the darkness. But Awiyao knew that she heard him and his heart pitied her. He crawled on all fours to the middle of the room; he knew exactly where the stove was. With bare fingers he stirred the covered smoldering embers, and blew into the stove. When the coals began to glow, Awiyao put pieces of pine on them, then full round logs as his arms. The room brightened. “Why don’t you go out,” he said, “and join the dancing women?” He felt a pang inside him, because what he said was really not the right thing to say and because the woman did not stir. “You should join the dancers,” he said, “as if–as if nothing had happened.” He looked at the woman huddled in a corner of the room, leaning against the wall. The stove fire played with...
tracking img