Ilocano Spirit

On sun-baked fields where garlic thrives,
Ilocano hands shape stubborn lives.
Empanada’s golden crust conceals
The flavors of a thousand meals.

Bagnet crackles, a salty dream,
While Abel weaves tell stories unseen.
Vigan’s cobblestones whisper tales
Of Spanish days and trade-wind sails.

Mighty Bangui windmills turn,
As Ilocano hearts still yearn
For distant shores and greener fields,
Yet home’s embrace never yields.

Pinakbet simmers, a humble feast,
Where bitter melds with sweet released.
In every bite, in every word,
The Ilocano soul is stirred.

From Laoag’s sands to Pagudpud’s waves,
A people’s pride stands tall and braves
The tests of time, of change, of fate,
Ilocano spirit, strong and great.

In dialect both harsh and sweet,
Where “Naimbag a bigat” greets the street,
A culture rich in grit and grace,
Leaves on the world its lasting trace.