beside a balmy lake, the seat of my delight.

A Poem That Has No Title
To my Creator I sing Who did soothe me in my great loss; To the Merciful and Kind Who in my troubles gave me repose. Thou with that pow'r of thine Said: Live! And with life myself I found; And shelter gave me thou And a soul impelled to the good Like a compass whose point to the North is bound. Thou did make me descend From honorable home and respectable stock, And a homeland thou gavest me Without limit, fair and rich Though fortune and prudence it does lack.

Ah, yes, my awkward foot explored your sombre woodlands, and on the banks of your rivers in frolic I took part. I prayed in your rustic temple, a child, with a child’s devotion; and your unsullied breeze exhilarated my heart. The Creator I saw in the grandeur of your age-old forests; upon your bosom, sorrows were ever unknown to me; while at your azure skies I gazed, neither love nor tenderness failed me, for in nature lay my felicity. Tender childhood, beautiful town, rich fountain of rejoicing and of harmonious music that drove away all pain: return to this heart of mine, return my gracious hours, return as the birds return when flowers spring again! But O goodbye! May the Spirit of Good, a loving gift-giver, keep watch eternally over your peace, your joy, your sleep! For you, my fervent pryers; for you, my constant desire to learn; and I pray heaven your innocence to keep!

A Tribute to My Town
When I remember the days that saw my early childhood spent on the green shores of a murmurous lagoon; when I remember the coolness, delicious and refreshing, that on my face I felt as I heard Favonius croon; when I behold the white lily swell to the wind’s impulsion, and that tempestuous element meekly asleep on the sand; when I inhale the dear intoxicating essence the flowers exude when dawn is smiling on the land; sadly, sadly I recall your visage, precious childhood, which an affectionate mother made beautiful and bright; I recall a simple town, my comfort, joy and cradle,

Child Jesus
Why have you come to earth, Child-God, in a poor manger? Does Fortune find you a stranger from the moment of your birth? Alas, of heavenly stock now turned an earthly resident! Do you not wish to be president but the shepherd of your flock?

the dismal injunction of my cruel fate. Wind of heaven. that the wind moves to a gentle crooning. you who smile and will not sigh. the date. oh. If then. wind of love. . They say that into your dawn you bear the immaculate soul a prisoner -. and that without thorns blossom the roses in your clime. They say you brighten the soul that mourns when dark clouds gather. spare me an hour of your cheer. the dawn's enchanting face among red clouds appearing? The reason.the moment.the fatal instant. that the breast may savor the bliss it knew. dear mother. so it has come at last -. a single day of your career. soft bud swooning. is they feast your day of bloom: the rose with its perfume. you who perhaps came down to earth to bring the lonely solace and mirth. Flower Among Flowers Flower among flowers.First Inspiration Why falls so rich a spray of fragrance from the bowers of the balmy flowers upon this festive day? Why from woods and vales do we hear sweet measures ringing that seem to be the singing of a choir of nightingales? Why in the grass below do birds start at the wind's noises. unleashing their honeyed voices as they hop from bough to bough? Why should the spring that glows its crystalline murmur be tuning to the zephyr's mellow crooning as among the flowers it flows? Why seems to me more endearing. all you espy. more fair than on other days. you who gladden Goodbye to Leonor And so it has arrived -. and to be a joy for the heart to capture. And the spring that rings with laughter upon this joyful day with its murmur seems to say: 'Live happily ever after!' And from that spring in the grove now turn to hear the first note that from my lute I emote to the impulse of my love. you enhance the joy of those on whom you glance with the magic charm God gave to you. the bird with its harmonies. candour and fragrance from above. when I must separate myself from you.bound with the ties of passion and rapture? They say you spread good everywhere like the Spring which fills the air with joy and flowers in Apriltime. like a fairy.

When the evening brings repose. through the caves and the thickets we ramble. Scorching the rays of the sun above. not the waves. If some youth would show his love Labor his faith will sustain : Only a man who struggles and works Hymn to Talisay Hail. the young face tranquil. home and Motherland. firm and faithful. For tomorrow when country calls us We may be able your task to finish. that we fear. Chorus: MAIDENS: H ail! Hail! Praise to labour. and ardor. On returning joy awaits you. the elements —land. in a fix we shall know how to fight. Leonor. our houses are built upon rocks. Chorus: CHILDREN: Teac h. Hard the land may turn to be. our minds received their formation. goodbye! I take my leave. life. Of the country wealth and vigor! For it brow serene's exalted. knowledge and country. no savage tempest. And if fate is adverse. No darkness. And on seeing us the elders will say: 'Look. wife and children All will be easy to our love. We are children. It's her blood. leaving behind with you my lover's heart! Goodbye. Go! To the field to till the land.. For the wife keeps home faithfully. children born late. We ransack the sand in our frolic. Will the Filipino keep watch. by your grace. and no dark night. We are children that nothing frightens. For the country. ever forward march elate! You. the arm ready. For the labour of man sustains Fam'ly. us ye the laborious work To pursue your footsteps we wish. sea and air— shall dominate! The sandy beach of Dapitan and the rocks of its lofty mountain are your throne. Inculcates love in her children For virtue.. Leonor: from here I now depart. O Melancholy absence! Ah. victorious. our arms reach far and wide. both body and soul. strong men shall we be tomorrow that can guard a family right. Hymn To Labor Chorus: For the Motherland in war. He will live until life will cease! MEN: Now the East is glowing with light. Chorus: WIVES: Go to work with spirits high. what pain! Will his offspring know to maintain. the wife. O sacred asylum where I passed my childhood days! In your valley covered with flowers and shaded by fruitful orchards. they're worthy 'f their sires of yore!' Incense does not honor the dead As does a son with glory and valor. nor the thunder. For the Motherland in peace. nor the storm. but our spirits are fresh and healthy.Goodbye. Talisay. Shall know the task to continue. .

and your name. our precipice is a deep chasm. your memory shall be his amulet. Now mute indeed are tongue and heart: love shies away. Sinta'y tatahimik. That a mother lovingly Did succeed to embellish. Neglected by its leaders and defeated. we shall catch him. I sadly recall your face. In the struggles that await the grown man. the sword— companions of a brave man. the pen and the spade. Bayan palibhasa'y lupig at sumuko Sa kapabayaan ng nagturong puno. in Dapitan and all its region Talisay has no match! Our reservoir is unequalled. And on your river banks Kundiman Tunay ngayong umid yaring dila't puso Sinta'y umiilag. the picket. and when we go rowing. Oh. I remember a simple town. Ibubuhos namin ang dugo't babaha Matubos nga lamang ang sa amang lupa Habang di ninilang panahong tadhana.if the devil himself comes forward. iidlip ang nasa. the rifle. our bancas no banca in the world can catch! We study the problems of science and the history of the nation. dead or alive! Talisayon. When sweet 'toxicating scent From the flowers I inhale Which at the dawn they exhale When at us it begins to peep. Our hands can wield at the same time the knife. Kundiman (English Translation) . faith and reason we span. in the tomb. Pilit maliligtas ang inaping bayan. clear star. But O the sun will shine again! Itself the land shall disenchain. When I remember the sighs Of the breeze that on my brow Sweet and caressing did blow With coolness full of delight. his peace. My cradle. but till that day arrives for which we weep. joy and boon. and once more round the world with growing praise shall sound the name of the Tagalog race. joy stands apart. Long live luxuriant Talisay! Our voices exalt you in chorus. Memories of My Town When I recall the days That saw my childhood of yore Beside the verdant shore Of a murmuring lagoon. subject to pain and sorrow. the country was subdued and it submitted. We shall pour out our blood in a great flood to liberate the parent sod. yes! With uncertain pace I trod your forest lands. dear treasure of childhood. a childhood you guide and please. Beside the cool lagoon The seat of all my wish. When I look at the lily white Fills up with air violent And the stormy element On the sand doth meekly sleep. desire shall sleep. Oh precious infancy. Datapuwa't muling sisikat ang araw. We speak some three or four languages. the people call us: a great soul in a little body. Magbabalik mandin at muling iiral Ang ngalang Tagalog sa sandaigdigan. tuwa'y lumalayo. love shall be mute.

While I gazed on your azure sky Neither love nor tenderness Failed me. insane with grief.A pleasant fun I found. I sing not of love? My last Thought Land I adore. Far afield. Bring back my gentle hours As do the birds when the flow'rs Would again begin to blow! But. rose-strewn. they know well to what they owe their being. the lily. the sword or inglorious torture. When 'tis the hearth and the country that call for the life's immolation? . 'cause my happiness In the heart of nature rests there. That drive away my sorrow! Return thee to my heart. a passion and its throes Oh. my damned brood and sorrow suckled each and every brat! Oh. farewell! thou land of the southern sun's choosing! Pearl of the Orient seas! our forfeited Garden of Eden! Joyous I yield up for thee my sad life. not a lovely flower. What matters way or place the Cyprus. nor wavered nor paused in the giving. ambition. a young soul. Saw I God in the grandeur Of your woods which for centuries stand. Genius of good who kindly dispose Of his blessings with amour. my bitter past? Why resurrect unhappy memories now when the heart awaits from love a sign. Young. At your rustic temple I prayed With a little boy's simple faith And your aura's flawless breath Filled my heart with joy profound. joy and repose. drink the nectar that life has to offer and let the bitter dregs in peace repose! Again I feel the impenetrable shadows shrouding the soul with the thick veils of night: a mere bud only. alas. y R. Gibbet or open field. Others have laid down their lives. Why ask for those unintellectual verses that once. Rich fountain of happiness.O. may you never know why! For the reason brings melancholy but may set you laughing. beautiful town. and why. Miss C. madness. I sang aghast? Or are you maybe throwing in my face my rank ingratitude. Never did I understand In your bosom what sorrows were. not knowing if another day will shine? You wish to learn the cause of this dejection delirium of despair that anguish wove? You wish to know the wherefore of such sorrows. in the din and rush of maddening battle. Down with my corpse into the grave shall go another corpse that's buried in my stuffing! Something impossible. the laurel. adieu! E'er watch For your peace. for thee and thy happiness still would I give it. Of harmonious melodies. or call the night when day begins to smile. because it's destitute of air and light Behold them: my poor verses. dreams of the soul. It's for thee my constant desire Knowledge ever to acquire And may God keep your candour! Oh. and maybe they themselves will tell you what. Tender childhood. and were it far brighter. It's for thee my fervent pray'rs.

Some day thou seest upspring a lowly. to watch till the morning. seeking in the still serenity of the woods repose to my intellect and silence to my grief. our widows. and greeting again! . Pray thou too. Deep in the chilly tomb. O land of enchantment ! If in the deep. O my fatherland! for my peaceful reposing. and I shall be space in thy meadows. is my rustic cabin. she smiles through the cowl of the darkness. . Oh. my country. . thou gem of the Orient ocean ! Tearless thine eyes so deep. that thou shouldst forget me ! I shall be air in thy streets. that all have forgot. shall be fragrance and color. Light and shout. and seek not to lay death's mystery open. on my cross let some bird tell its message. and dreams of my strong young manhood. will lend it the sheen of his glory. on the way to thy final redemption. Mine is the hand. O my country! Beautiful is it to fall. no cross nor stone marketh. of no worth. its beams and posts are rough as roughhewn wood can be. warm breath of thy kisses. When my tomb. on the hour ! pour it out. there cleave the earth open. And if at eventide a soul for my tranquil sleep prayeth. What were they all but to see. Just as I die. tremulous blossom. My Retreat Beside a spacious beach of fine and delicate sand and at the foot of a mountain greener than a leaf. and loved song forever repeating my message. I planted my humble hut beneath a pleasant orchard. and the sun in his rising Mayhap will touch it with gold. that the vision may rise to fulfilment. There may some friendly heart lament my parting untimely. Hast thou need of purple to garnish her pathway? Here is my blood.Dawn's faint lights bar the east. Dreams of my childhood and youth. unmarred thy sweet forehead. Little 'twill matter then. Let the winds murmur and sigh. Giving my life for thy life. its floor is brittle bamboo. Vision I followed from far. Loosed from the rain by the brazen sun. Pray for the bitter grief of our mothers. So shall my ashes at last be one with thy hills and thy valleys. Break not our rest. it is certain. There let the laborer guide his plough. Let the calm light of the moon fall around me. Its roof is fragile nipa. pray too for thyself. rich grass that covers my rest in thy bosom. and mine is the voice that is singing. Sweet to eternally sleep in thy lap. Pray for those who remain to suffer such torture in prisons. When our still dwelling-place wraps night's dusky mantle about her. desire that spurred on and consumed me! Greeting! my parting soul cries. let clouds of soft vapor Bear to the skies. I shall be vibrant speech in thine ears. our orphans. If now and then thou shouldst hear the string of a lute or a zithern. as they mount again. Lay there thy lips. the chant of my spirit. the soft. Leaving the dead alone with the dead. unbent. may I feel on myforehead descending. 'tis mysoul. and dawn's fleeting splendor. dear country. Pray for those who go down to death through unspeakable torments. . and breathing thine air in the death-throe.

hisses. meekly flows the spring. there is no boastful man. ‘Tis said they tell of the first morning on the earth. the cattle moan. when multitudes of beings materialized from nothing to populate the abyss and the overhanging summits and all the places where that quickening kiss was pressed. their spirits say that they are on their way to the plain. summoned by the dead to a mortuary feast. So pass the days of my life in my obscure retreat. and when at the end of day my faith has proven futile. and an impetuous torrent spills over rocks and chasms—hoarse. across the air move cries that terrify the spirit. drowned in the sea. The overflowing brook. the trees stir far and wide. donating a current of water through makeshift bamboo pipes that in the silent night is melody and music and crystalline nectar in the noon heat of the day. by a fit of trembling seized. one sees the sea afire with flames of green and blue. washes it with its spray. the wandering breeze is cool. The wild night hisses. strumming on its invisible zither unceasingly. the twittering of the birds. but come the time of the rains. the firmament is brilliant. a lamentation that seems to come from those who. the dark depths of the forest resound. The barking of the dog. its bright smile animates me in the limpid mornings. but calm is re-established with the approach of dawning and forthwith an intrepid little fishing vessel begins to navigate the weary waves anew. the sea is everything! Its sovereign mass brings to me atoms of a myriad faraway lands. If the sky is serene. that from the shadowy jungle descends between huge bolders. the waves narrate with many a sigh to the mild wind histories that were lost in the dark night of time. But when the winds rage in the darkness of the night and the unquiet waves commence their agony. a chorus of voices praying. Then do the mountain ranges on high reverberate. only the forests and the sea do I have near. no nuisance of a neighbor to impose himself on my mind or to disturb my passage. At night it is a mystery! … Its diaphanous element is carpeted with thousands and thousands of lights that climb. long ago. . The sea. my heart echoes the sound of its sorrow on the sands.but on the lap of the eternal mount it slumbers and night and day is lulled by the crooning of the sea. of the first kiss with which the sun inflamed her breast. confused and terrifying. the hoarse voice of the kalaw are all that I hear. foaming and aboil— to hurl itself with a frenzied roaring toward the sea.

and. and after the struggle and the lingering agony a voice more eloquent and happier than my own will then know how to utter victory’s canticle. a leafy bower. no health to bring me cheer. with no qualms.cast out of the world where once I dwelt: such is my rare good fortune. convictions of a youth that was healthy and sincere. On seeing the same moon. scarcely a youth. I see the heavens shining. as silvery as before. and Providence be praised for my condition: a disregarded pebble that craves nothing but moss to hide from all the treasure that in myself I bear. some already are dead. my dwelling place demolished. a weary swallow. alone infuses me with faith. dreams of rose and gold. Across the fields and rivers of my native town perhaps has traveled the breeze that now I breathe by chance. And afterwards. to go back to the nest of those for whom I care. I feel within me the ancient melancholy revive. an azotea. the future ruined. a thousand memories of love and vows awaken: a patio. faith now sold to others. squandered in foreign lands the April of my life. dreaming of other skies and of a larger strife. of my entire existence the solitary treasure. It is my faithful friend that never turns against me. silences and sighs. who haunt my memory. my land and my affections. others have long forgotten— but what does it matter? I live remembering the past and no one can ever take the past away from me. the same that once enkindled my fervent enthusiasm and turned the blood ebullient within my youthful heart. that cheers my spirit when my spirit’s a lonesome wraith. when all doubt. with no terrors. and vagrant everywhere. perhaps it will give back to me what once I gave it: the sighs and kisses of a person idolized and the sweet secrets of a virginal romance. I left. no home. you come to me anew. Faith do I have. when I desired. suddenly fiercely roared a violent hurricane and I found my wings broken. and I believe the day will shine when the Idea shall defeat brute force as well. . I feel the same breeze kissing my autumnal brow. I live with the remembrance of those that I have loved and hear their names still spoken. a beach. and blushes of delight … A butterfly athirst for radiances and colors. and shares with me my exile and my cabin. as flawless and refulgent as in the days that saw my first illusions start. and ruins everywhere. that in my sleepless nights keeps watch with me and prays with me. Hurled upon a rock of the country I adore.

like once. and in its shadowy forests. of happy days. For God who knows how to look after us . BECAUSE by its language one can judge A town. The pilgrim shall return to his country. serene tranquility. Our Mother Tongue IF truly a people dearly love The tongue to them by Heaven sent. Impelled by a hand invisible. if now no longer as merry. And like any other created thing Every human being loves his freedom. wanderer: stifle your sorrows! the world laughs at another's pain. AS others. without country or love! Anxious. I thank you that in good hour suspended by uncertain flight to bring me down to the bosom of my native earth. hurricane. This language He bestowed us upon. he shall discover. without north. AND like a truly precious thing It therefore deserves to be cherished. by his country and the world forgotten Rest quiet: the torment is over. angelical tongue. Begone. and kingdom. repose to my intellect and silence to my grief. without soul. where no love exists. A tomb perhaps in the desert. who are happy but you. winds of heaven. I thank you. somewhat serious I find you. a barrio. O illusions. our language is the same With alphabet and letters of its own. the cup of consolation. wanderer! Look not behind you nor grieve as you leave again. and graves nothing more. memories shall keep him company of loved ones. Begone. To English. And they envy the hapless wanderer as across the earth he persists! Ah. if now no longer as vivid. offering a thousand crowns to immortality. Is worse than putrid fish and beast.No more are you. Spanish. ONE who doesn't love his native tongue. a vain shadow that mocks his yearning and for which he sails the seas. It was lost because a storm did destroy On the lake the bangka 1 in years bygone. and shall find only ice and ruin. They'll surely yearn for liberty Like a bird above in the firmament. perished loves. Song of the Wanderer Dry leaf that flies at random till it's seized by a wind from above: so lives on earth the wanderer. a sweet refuge. begone! Begone. a stranger now and alone! Let the others sing of loving. I found in my land a refuge under a pleasant orchard. he seeks joy everywhere and joy eludes him and flees. you come to reawaken the years of youthful mirth. wanderer! In your own country. THE Tagalog language's akin to Latin. now bear the superscription of fidelity. he shall wander from place to place. and yet your face beloved. Beside a spacious beach of fine and delicate sand and at the foot of a mountain greener than a leaf. they know not of the emptiness in his soul. full of fire and life. You offer me. shall return perhaps to his shore.

Hail! Cries out the soul to you. sad and repressed. dear Country. And pray too that you may see your own redemption. Were to see you. who. conflict or martyrdom's site. my ardent. My life's fancy. Don't disturb their repose. In murmurs grave allow the wind to sigh. And in your mystic land to sleep through eternity! If over my tomb some day. that will soon part from thee. that in God may rest I. And gild it with a reflection of your nascent light! My dreams. . Your dark eyes dry.The Last Poem of Rizal Farewell. open field. To die to give you life. And when the dark night wraps the cemet'ry And only the dead to vigil there are left alone. Let a friend shed tears over my early demise. Warmth of your breath. region of the sun caressed. gem of the sea of the Orient. And under the cold tomb. my Motherland. Let the moon with soft. On the fields of battle. lily white. For our poor mothers who in bitterness have cried. And should a bird descend on my cross and alight. Let the burning sun the raindrops vaporize And with my clamor behind return pure to the sky. It is the same if asked by home and Country. A simple humble flow'r amidst thick grasses. With gladness I give you my Life. My dreams when already a youth. For orphans. And were it more brilliant. Bring it up to your lips and kiss my soul so. If you need a hue to dye your matutinal glow. I die as I see tints on the sky b'gin to show And at last announce the day. It is I. Pray thee for all the hapless who have died. Pray too. a song t'you intone. Others give you their lives without pain or hesitancy. brilliant light. when scarcely a lad adolescent. more fresh and at its best. after a gloomy night. The place does not matter: cypress laurel. our Eden lost. without wrinkles and of shame without stain. gentle light me descry. my adored Land. don't disturb the mystery: If you hear the sounds of cittern or psaltery. in the fury of fight. 'neath your skies to expire. full of vigor to attain. Pearl of the Orient Sea. I may feel on my brow. Scaffold. Pour my blood and at the right moment spread it so. Let the bird intone a song of peace o'er my site. I would still give it to you for your welfare at most. smooth brow held to a high plane Without frown. Let the dawn send forth its fleeting. And on quiet afternoons when one prays for me on high. passionate desire. oh. Hail! How sweet 'tis to fall that fullness you may acquire. a whiff of your tenderness. For all those who unequalled torments have undergone. widows and captives to tortures were shied. you would see blow.

Dear Philippines. parents. Give thanks that now I rest from the wearisome day. tranquil is death. where friendly shines the sun above! Life is the breeze that sweeps the . as from a celebration some mysterious refrain that haunts the ears will remain of the orchestra's actuation. With neither cross nor stone to mark its place. where friendly shines the sun above! Death is the breeze for him who has no country. moanings deep. meadows. II There was a time. with spade let it be scattered And my ashes ere to nothingness are restored. for whom I most gravely pine. uprooted from the Orient. Farewell. III A scarce-grown plant I seem. to all I love. to my last goodbye. 'tis true. my friend. your skies. Farewell. Constantly repeating the essence of the faith I keep. and no love! They Ask Me for Verses! I They bid me strike the lyre so long now mute and broken. Now of that time there lingers hardly a memory. O land that is never forgotten! And these have taught me to sing: the birds with their melody. song. oh. where perfume is the atmosphere and where life is a dream. but now that time has vanished when indulgent love or friendship called me a poet too. for in my sad isolation my soul nor frolics nor feels. harken There I leave all: my parents. love.And when my grave by all is no more remembered. she lies when she laughs and thrills as she lies in her lamentation. Warm kisses on the lips are playing as we awake to mother's face: the arms are seeking to embrace her. tyrants or hangmen Where faith does not kill and where God alone does reign. the cataracts with their force and. hues. who brightened my way. but not a note can I waken nor will my muse inspire! She stammers coldly and babbles when tortured by my mind. your vales I'll sweep. light. on the swollen shores. the eyes are smiling as they gaze. beloved by me. in the home distressed. no mother. Friends of my childhood. brothers. Then it doesn't matter that you should forget me: Your atmosphere. most tender. Let it be plowed by man. Farewell. I'll go where there are no slaves. The Song of Maria Clara Sweet the hours in the native country. To die is to rest. Vibrant and clear note to your ears I shall be: Aroma. My idolized Country. Let them turn to dust to cover your earthly space. How sweet to die for the native country. murmur. sweet stranger. loves of mine.

sometimes to weep. A poet was I. one now writes a poem with a pen of steel. Flee also. to offer combat. seething. for I wanted with my verses. not noting.the murmuring of the sea. a tree despoiled and shriveled. muse! Go forth and seek a region more fine. a fierce volcano ablaze. If to suppress the truth be a shame. in my madness. IV While in my childhood days I could smile upon her sunshine. craving to change my fate. by other things are the dreamy young inspired to passion. Now if imagination . when to her sons complains the Filipino nation? To My -No more is the muse invoked. the lyre is out of fashion. that. the days of love’s gay chorus. What I need is a sword. Gone are the days of peace. to say to the swift wind: 'Fly and propagate her renown! Praise her from zone to zone. no poet cares to use it. Oh. Muse that in the past inspired me to sing of the throes of love: go and repose. for my country vows to give you fetters for your laurels. for fate seals with disaster everything that I touch. instead of the weal I sought. do not ask of my heart that languishes. to meditate. that one married. love. a dark jail for your shrine. a joke and an irony. for he who would love much has also much to suffer. one simply asks the garçon for a cup of coffee please. when the flowers were enough to alleviate the soul of its sufferings and sorrows. I felt in my bosom. no Helicon is invoked. I have a need to reason. Instead of tender stanzas that move the heart’s sympathy. as without peace I tread this desert of no surprises. from the earth up to the sky!' V I left her! My native hearth. an impiety. with my breath. desire. The dreams of younger hours. songs of love! For. when a hurricane is roaring. the sea around me wrought the spectre of death and sadness. have been left there under the skies of that fair land of flowers. I feel that my soul agonizes and that my spirit is dead. no longer repeats the echo of my old songs of mirth. I sailed across the vast ocean. rivers of gold. and acrid prose. demands some poesies. enthusiasm. One by one from my side go those I loved so much: this one dead. would it not then be madness to keep you by my side deprived of liberty? Why sing when destiny calls to serious meditation.

Recount the words he said as. . Many years have passed since with the ardent heat of a kiss you burned my brow … That kiss has now turned cold. sacred imagination. O flowers. or in a forest nook. sown by the traveler along the road. the glade. so let my tribulations. before departing. the forest. a white pearl rescued from the sty: return then and intone with vigor the sacred hymn of a new existence. my fancies and my lyrics slumber. that in his country in full zenith blazes. with great care. you saw him silent beside you. arid the soul. he hails that sun. no heart to meet me? Let sleep in the depths of oblivion all that I feel. faith being faded. I know well that your favors you lavish without measure only during that time of flowers and first loves unclouded by displeasure. go.And why sing if my song will merely resound with a moaning that will arouse no one. But if with laurel triumph crowns our efforts. there’s not a heart that beats with mine. Say that when dawn which steals your aroma was whispering playful love songs to your young sweet petals. I cannot for my country die. But. peace to my country and its fecund loam. recount the devotion the pilgrim nurses for his native sod! Go and say say that when dawn opened your chalices for the first time beside the icy Neckar. like a queen of the East arises. my love to my loved ones. still in its dawning. murmured canticles of love in his native tongue. the lips frigid. You’ll give me the mourning zither whose chords vibrate with elegiac strains to sweeten the sorrows of my nation and muffle the clanking of her chains. To the Flowers of Heidelberg Go to my country. say that to your sublime address ever responded in me a song for those who grieve and a challenge for those who oppress. broken the sword. when among the people who criticize and maltreat me. that in the morning when the sun first traces the topmost peak of Koenigssthul in gold and with a mild warmth raises to life again the valley. and my country. faith to its men and virtue to its women. thinking of her constant vernal clime. and we shall sing that strain in chorus though in the sepulcher we lie. on the banks of the Neckar. As sleep in the deep abyss the monsters of the sea. Carry. for there it well should be. and under that blue heaven that watches over my loved ones. between the pages of a worn-out book he pressed the flexible petals that he took. I have even forgotten it! But. once again to warm my fantasy you will come nigh when. the world being sick and tired of someone else’s groaning? For what. united. where the breath cannot mix it with a rhyme that evaporates in the air. too. And tell of that day when he collected you along the way among the ruins of a feudal castle. he. buried in me. carry. O foreign flowers.

and there untie The chains that heavy lie. while the intellectual West adores her smile. And the memory bright Of thy genius' light Makest immortal in its strength .health to the gracious beings that dwell within the sacred paternal home. where now you stand. Thou. sings to her among naiads and undines. Seeking from Olympian skies Songs of sweetest strain. Your spirit free to blight. thou genius grand. as gracious and as pure as the break of dawn when darling clouds take on a sapphire tone. And bring down inspiration. to Apelles dear . Come down with pleasing light Of art and science to the fight. and you will keep perhaps your vivid hues. deposit the kiss I gave you on the wings of the wind above that with the wind it may rove and I may kiss all that I worship. Go forth. Swifter than the wind's violation. O youth. When you reach that shore. Softer than ambrosial rain. in accents clear Of Phoebus. See how in flaming zone Amid the shadows thrown. and then the sacred fire Of thy genius to the laurel may aspire . To fig it on the simple canvas' length . And thou. but far from your native heroic earth to which you owe your life and worth. amorous kisses. your fragrances you will lose! For fragrance is a spirit that never can forsake and never forgets the sky that saw its birth. flowers. most enthusiastic and elate. for thy land! So bless the Power to-day That places in thy way This favor and this fortune grand! To the Philippine Youth Hold high the brow serene. sleeps a goddess on the Indian shore. To The Philippines Warm and beautiful like a houri of yore. Thou. Or by the brush's magic art Takest from nature's store a part. Through wider spheres the human name. who by sharp strife Wakest thy mind to life . My Muse. Fair Filipinas. Day. Raise the eager mind to higher station. . O youth. Thou. The small waves of the sonorous sea assail her feet with ardent. and the old hoary Pole. O happy day. The Spaniard'a holy hand A crown's resplendent band Proffers to this Indian land. Fair hope of my fatherland! Come now. To spread around the fame. With thy mighty hand. who now wouldst rise On wings of rich emprise. whose voice divine Rivals Philomel's refrain And with varied line Through the night benign Frees mortality from pain. honor and love! But O you will arrive there. her flower veil. Let the bright sheen Of your grace be seen. And in victory acclaim.

    Dear  Antonino.       V       As  the  sea  pilot. From your abode.  who  so  bravely   fought     Tempestuous  waters  in  the  dark  of   night. and exalt the Philippines! To the Virgin Mary Mary. and flowering greens and lilies. and shall be my life.       VI       So.       VII       And  from  ourselves  that  in  such  loving   accents     Salute  you  everywhere  you  celebrate. and you shall be my guide on this wild sea.     Gazes  upon  his  darling  vessel  safe     And  come  to  port.  who  manifests  his   face     Behind  high  hill  or  overhanging   mountain.     Canticles  sends. Mary.  full  of  a  sweet   contentment.     And  may  its  sweetness  in  disaster   soften     The  ruder  torments. if death harasses me with agony: come to my aid and dissipate my sorrow! Felicitation  by  Jose  Rizal       I     If  Philomela  with  harmonious  tongue     To  blond  Apollo. my stronghold. O artists. in mercy deign to hear my cry of woe and to the radiance of your mantle draw my voice that rises with so swift a flight.       IV       From  amorous  wife  and  amiable   Emilio     Sweetly  receive  an  unsurpassed   affection. With myrtle. If vice pursues me madly on the morrow.       III       From  all  your  sisters  and  your  other   kin     Receive  most  lovingly  the  loving   accent     That  the  suave  warmth  of  love  dictates   to  them     Placid  and  tender.     . crown her brow immaculate. purple roses. my defense most thorough. sweet peace and dearest consolation of suffering mortal: you are the fount whence springs the current of solicitude that brings unto our soil unceasing fecundation.     Now  let  your  eyes  be  lifted   heavenward     To  him  who  is  the  solace  of  all  men     And  loving  Father.       II       So  we  as  well. You are my mother.     Salute  you  and  your  very  noble  saint     With  tender  music  and  fraternal   measures.I offer her my fortune and my fate. enthroned on heaven's height.  setting  aside  all  [worldly]   predilections.

    .These  clamorous  vivas  that  from  the   heart  resound     Be  pleased  to  accept.