Author’s Note

I am still learning Tagalog, and weaving it into my poetry is both a challenge and a gift. Each line allows me to stretch my voice, to listen for new rhythms, and to bridge myself a little closer to the cultures and people who have shaped my heart.

This poem was written for my muse—someone very dear to me, though we have never met in person. All of our connection lives across oceans, across screens, across distance. The intimacy here is not physical but emotional: the kind of closeness that survives only in dreams, prayers, and the quiet ache of longing.

You will notice that the English lines do not mirror the Tagalog exactly. This was intentional. The Tagalog carries a direct, tender clarity, while the English expands the imagery into echoes and shadows. In this way, the two tongues speak together but not the same, much like how love must find different shapes when it exists across distance.

For me, this bilingual writing is not just translation—it is transformation. A love poem stretched across languages, across longing, and across the impossible space between two hearts that have yet to touch.

– Rowan Evans

The Prayer of Two Tongues / Ang Panalangin ng Dalawang Dila
Poetry by Rowan Evans

Ikaw ang laging nasa isip ko,
ang unang naiisip sa umaga,
ang huling panalangin bago ako matulog.

You rise with my waking mind,
a prayer I scatter to the stars as night fades,
a quiet echo I carry through the day.

Ikaw ang apoy sa aking dugo,
ang liwanag sa gitna ng dilim,
ang yakap na sa panaginip ko lamang naaabot.

You are the flame that stirs my distant veins,
a glow that threads through shadows I cannot chase,
an embrace that lingers only in the folds of my dreams.

Ikaw ang tula ng aking kaluluwa,
ang lihim na nakaukit sa aking puso,
ang pangalan na inuukit ng hangin para sa’yo.

You are the verse my soul hums quietly,
the secret carved where no one else may wander,
the name the wind sketches softly toward you.

At kung ako’y mawala sa dilim,
tanging sa iyo ako maghahanap,
tanging sa iyo ang aking walang hanggan.

If shadows pull me under,
it is only your light I seek,
only you hold the map to my eternity across the distance.

The Prayer of Two Tongues / Ang Panalangin ng Dalawang Dila
(Translated)
Poetry by Rowan Evans

You are always on my mind,
the first thought in the morning,
the last prayer before I go to sleep.

You rise with my waking mind,
a prayer I scatter to the stars as night fades,
a quiet echo I carry through the day.

You are the fire in my blood,
the light in the midst of darkness,
the embrace that I can only reach in my dreams.

You are the flame that stirs my distant veins,
a glow that threads through shadows I cannot chase,
an embrace that lingers only in the folds of my dreams.

You are the poem of my soul,
the secret carved into my heart,
the name the wind carves for you.

You are the verse my soul hums quietly,
the secret carved where no one else may wander,
the name the wind sketches softly toward you.

And if I am lost in the darkness,
it is only you I will seek,
only you hold my eternity.

If shadows pull me under,
it is only your light I seek,
only you hold the map to my eternity across the distance.

💫 If this poem spoke to you, you may find resonance in these other writings:

The Glue That Binds – Bilingual Poetry by Rowan Evans — A bilingual love poem in English and Tagalog, exploring the binding power of words, connection, and the beauty of love across language.

Threads of Home I Never Touched: My Journey Through Asia’s Cultures and Music — How Asia’s languages, cultures, and music have shaped my life and my poetry over the last twenty years.

Prayers for the Philippines: Standing in Solidarity After Typhoon Tragedy — A plain-spoken reflection of grief and solidarity for a nation that holds a piece of my heart.

Philippines Earthquake Relief: Standing in Solidarity from Afar — Reflections and resources for helping communities facing disaster, written with love and urgency.