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And when the soldiers strong The fire consumes and devours
Had alighted on the shores The castles and palaces
And pointed all their guns And all the Joloans own
Against the enemy's wall, At our soldiers fierce attack.
With manly accent spoke Perfidious Mahumat flees,
The general : "Soldiers of mine, Tyrannical and godless Sultan,
Upon your valor depends And the warriors valorous
The rich glory of victory. March into Jolo as they sing.
Now delightful Granada, proud “And your audacious heart hopes to subdue
Is Christians' dwelling place The fierce sea’s terrible rage
And Granada belongs That when the fiery tempest roars
To the faithful populace. In mass it rises gloomy and grave?
Oh! Who could calmly contemplate
Now from Heaven God looks down The iron cold of bloody fate,
With joy the beautiful tow'rs That the roar of the wind which resounds
And merlons all full In the abyss a sad tomb opes?
Of Trophies and laurel.
“What lies beyond? Only death,
The dark sea that dreadfully terrifies
And infuses fear in the stoutest heart,
THE HEROISM OF COLUMBUS Where at each instant darkly appears
(El Heroismo de Colon, 1877) The tempest, with the mariner in doubt
How to guide his ship in such calamity;
And the waters bury him in the depth
Where a thousand horrible monsters hide.
Oh tell me, celestial Muse, who in the mind
Of Columbus infused a breath sublime, “But, alas, poor you! Alas, unhappy Spain
Invested with noble courage and faith, If you run in search of land remote!
To plough the seas of the West? I will excite the north wind’s rage
Who gave him brav’ry whem imposing And the hatred cruel of all that the ocean
The sea was angered. The wind roared, holds. . .
That in his rage the bad angel called And ere you step on the foreign shores,
Against the son of faithful Spain? War and discord I’ll put within your ship;
And I’ll not rest until I see your ruin,
In the midst of solemn tranquility If divine protection saves you not…
When languid earth was asleep,
And the moon its trembling disc “Hush, deceitful monster, with son’rous
Through the diaphanous sky did steer, voice
A man contemplates the wavy sea…
Christopher answers him, ignorance….” Isabel the Christian, his benefactress.
"Alas ! Alas ! It tells him, and resounded And you'll yield the ground inch by inch
profound Fertilized by your blessed blood ;
Th' echo of his voice calm and cold, The weak women and children slaves will
Terrible echo that touches the soul, be
Like the remembrance of a friendly voice. In their sad affliction ;
"Alas, poor me ! Pity the nation brave Hurled again to the desert cruel,
That the sandy Lybia saw on her breast ! Bitter tears for peace that was lost
Alas, poor Koran, sacred patrimony You will shed, and in shameful torment
That to the Muslim Allah once bequeathed ! You will count the days of your return.
Vainly did you conquer the flags And rejoicing proudly at your distress
Of the Pow'rful Christian of Guadalete In their perfidy A thousand ships will arm,
On the green banks, for again And the beautiful ground where I rest in
Raises he rebellious his captive head. peace
They will threaten with fury never seen.
Pelayo, the great Pelayo, the noble Goth,
The illustrious son of fierce Favila, Arm yourself ! Run ! Quickly fly !
On the hard rocks of Covadonga Cast your veteran army with the fight
Fights the forces of the Moor. And to the wind let the son'rous trumpet
release
The Cross, the Cross, insignia idolized, Warlike accent, to glory a toast.
Follows its army that to conquer aspires:
Mary goes with them with her cloak Trembles the ground beneath the saddle
Shelters she with love the bodies weak. light
Of the fiery steed that Arabia breeds
But don't fear, for triumphant ever be And like showy murex in burning red
Will the Muslim in the combat crude, Infidel blood tints your scimitar.
And of no avail her protection would be
For only God helps the faithful with his arm. Before the Moon that my insignia displays
Make the Cross its fortress yield,
But alas! If you sleep in the arms of delight And forever victorious may they shine
And my heavenly precepts you ignore The beneficent doctrines of the Koran."
The throne that sustained Tarif will fall
To the rough blow of the sword profane Said he ; and like a lightly rising smoke
That a strong wind rapidly dissipates,
Like the overflowing river your blood Thus disappeared the terrible fright
Will inundate the vales and fields That the vision divine caused the Moor.
And the flourishing Iberia's ground
Th' Arab's cold tomb will become ;
Oh, may you never know why! For the Say that when dawn
reason which steals your aroma
brings melancholy but may set you was whispering playful love songs to your
laughing. young
Down with my corpse into the grave shall go sweet petals, he, too, murmured
another corpse that's buried in my stuffing! canticles of love in his native tongue;
that in the morning when the sun first traces
Something impossible, ambition, madness, the topmost peak of Koenigssthul in gold
dreams of the soul, a passion and its throes and with a mild warmth raises
Oh, drink the nectar that life has to offer to life again the valley, the glade, the forest,
and let the bitter dregs in peace repose! he hails that sun, still in its dawning,
that in his country in full zenith blazes.
Again I feel the impenetrable shadows
shrouding the soul with the thick veils of And tell of that day
night: when he collected you along the way
a mere bud only, not a lovely flower, among the ruins of a feudal castle,
because it's destitute of air and light on the banks of the Neckar, or in a forest
nook.
Behold them: my poor verses, my damned Recount the words he said
brood as, with great care,
and sorrow suckled each and every brat! between the pages of a worn-out book
Oh, they know well to what they owe their he pressed the flexible petals that he took.
being,
and maybe they themselves will tell you Carry, carry, O flowers,
what. my love to my loved ones,
peace to my country and its fecund loam,
faith to its men and virtue to its women,
THE FLOWERS OF health to the gracious beings
that dwell within the sacred paternal home.
HEIDELBERG (A los Flores de
Heidelberg , April 1886) When you reach that shore,
A Translation from the Spanish by Nick deposit the kiss I gave you
Joaquin on the wings of the wind above
that with the wind it may rove
and I may kiss all that I worship, honor and
Go to my country, go, O foreign flowers, love!
sown by the traveler along the road,
and under that blue heaven But O you will arrive there, flowers,
that watches over my loved ones, and you will keep perhaps your vivid hues;
recount the devotion but far from your native heroic earth
the pilgrim nurses for his native sod!
to which you owe your life and worth, Go! To the field to till the land,
your fragrances you will lose! For the labour of man sustains
For fragrance is a spirit that never can Fam'ly, home and Motherland.
forsake Hard the land may turn to be,
and never forgets the sky that saw its birth. Scorching the rays of the sun above...
For the country, wife and children
All will be easy to our love.
(Chorus)
THE SONG OF MARIA CLARA,
1887 WIVES:
(A Translation from the Spanish by Nick Go to work with spirits high,
Joaquin) For the wife keeps home faithfully,
Inculcates love in her children
For virtue, knowledge and country.
Sweet the hours in the native country, When the evening brings repose,
where friendly shines the sun above! On returning joy awaits you,
Life is the breeze that sweeps the meadows; And if fate is adverse, the wife,
tranquil is death; most tender, love. Shall know the task to continue.
(Chorus)
Hymn to Labor, 1888
(A Translation from the Spanish by Nick
CHILDREN:
Joaquin)
Teach, us ye the laborious work
To pursue your footsteps we wish,
For tomorrow when country calls us
CHORUS:
We may be able your task to finish.
And on seeing us the elders will say :
For the Motherland in war,
"Look, they're worthy 'f their sires of yore!"
For the Motherland in peace,
Incense does not honor the dead
Will the Filipino keep watch,
As does a son with glory and valor.
He will live until life will cease!
MEN:
Now the East is glowing with light,
TO MY MUSE (A Mi, 1890, incl. in everything that I touch.
La Solidaridad)
(A Translation from the Spanish by Nick Flee also, muse! Go forth
Joaquin) and seek a region more fine,
for my country vows to give you
fetters for your laurels,
No more is the muse invoked; a dark jail for your shrine.
the lyre is out of fashion;
no poet cares to use it; If to suppress the truth
by other things are the dreamy be a shame, an impiety,
young inspired to passion. would it not then be madness
to keep you by my side
Now if imagination deprived of liberty?
demands some poesies,
no Helicon is invoked; Why sing when destiny calls
one simply asks the garçon to serious meditation,
for a cup of coffee please. when a hurricane is roaring,
when to her sons complains
Instead of tender stanzas the Filipino nation?
that move the heart’s sympathy,
one now writes a poem And why sing if my song
with a pen of steel, will merely resound with a moaning
a joke and an irony. that will arouse no one,
the world being sick and tired
Muse that in the past of someone else’s groaning?
inspired me to sing of the throes
of love: go and repose. For what, when among the people
What I need is a sword, who criticize and maltreat me,
rivers of gold, and acrid prose. arid the soul, the lips frigid,
there’s not a heart that beats
I have a need to reason, with mine, no heart to meet me?
to meditate, to offer
combat, sometimes to weep; Let sleep in the depths of oblivion
for he who would love much all that I feel, for there
has also much to suffer. it well should be, where the breath
cannot mix it with a rhyme
Gone are the days of peace, that evaporates in the air.
the days of love’s gay chorus,
when the flowers were enough As sleep in the deep abyss
to alleviate the soul the monsters of the sea,
of its sufferings and sorrows. so let my tribulations,
my fancies and my lyrics
One by one from my side slumber, buried in me.
go those I loved so much:
this one dead, that one married; I know well that your favors
for fate seals with disaster you lavish without measure
only during that time But O the sun will shine again!
of flowers and first loves Itself the land shall disenchain;
unclouded by displeasure. and once more round the world with
growing praise
Many years have passed shall sound the name of the Tagalog race.
since with the ardent heat
of a kiss you burned my brow We shall pour out our blood in a great flood
That kiss has now turned cold, to liberate the parent sod;
I have even forgotten it! but till that day arrives for which we weep,
love shall be mute, desire shall sleep.
But, before departing, say
that to your sublime address
ever responded in me
a song for those who grieve
and a challenge for those who oppress. 31. WATER AND FIRE (EL AGUA Y
EL FUEGO, 1891)
But, sacred imagination, once again
to warm my fantasy you will come nigh Water are we, you say, and yourselves fire,
when, faith being faded, broken the sword, so let us be what we are
I cannot for my country die. and co-exist without ire,
and may no conflagration ever find us at
You’ll give me the mourning zither whose war.
chords vibrate with elegiac strains
to sweeten the sorrows of my nation but, rather, fused together by cunning
and muffle the clanking of her chains. science
within the cauldrons of the ardent breast,
But if with laurel triumph crowns without rage, without defiance,
our efforts, and my country, united, do we form steam, fifth element indeed:
like a queen of the East arises, progress, life, enlightenment, and speed!
a white pearl rescued from the sty:
return then and intone with vigor
the sacred hymn of a new existence,
and we shall sing that strain in chorus “ SONG OF THE
though in the sepulcher we lie. WANDERER/TRAVELER(EL
CANTO DEL VIAJERO, 1895)
MY RETREAT (Mi Retiro, 1895) The barking of the dog, the twittering of the
(A Translation from the Spanish by Nick birds,
Joaquin) the hoarse voice of the kalaw are all that I
hear;
there is no boastful man, no nuisance of a
Beside a spacious beach of fine and delicate neighbor
sand to impose himself on my mind or to disturb
and at the foot of a mountain greener than a my passage;
leaf, only the forests and the sea do I have near.
I planted my humble hut beneath a pleasant
orchard, The sea, the sea is everything! Its sovereign
seeking in the still serenity of the woods mass
brings to me atoms of a myriad faraway the cattle moan; the dark depths of the forest
lands; resound;
its bright smile animates me in the limpid their spirits say that they are on their way to
mornings; the plain,
and when at the end of day my faith has summoned by the dead to a mortuary feast.
proven futile,
my heart echoes the sound of its sorrow on The wild night hisses, hisses, confused and
the sands. terrifying;
one sees the sea afire with flames of green
At night it is a mystery! Its diaphanous and blue;
element but calm is re-established with the approach
is carpeted with thousands and thousands of of dawning
lights that climb; and forthwith an intrepid little fishing vessel
the wandering breeze is cool, the firmament begins to navigate the weary waves anew.
is brilliant,
the waves narrate with many a sigh to the So pass the days of my life in my obscure
mild wind retreat;
histories that were lost in the dark night of cast out of the world where once I dwelt:
time. such is my rare
good fortune; and Providence be praised for
‘Tis said they tell of the first morning on the my condition:
earth, a disregarded pebble that craves nothing but
of the first kiss with which the sun inflamed moss
her breast, to hide from all the treasure that in myself I
when multitudes of beings materialized from bear.
nothing
to populate the abyss and the overhanging I live with the remembrance of those that I
summits have loved
and all the places where that quickening kiss and hear their names still spoken, who haunt
was pressed. my memory;
some already are dead, others have long
But when the winds rage in the darkness of forgotten
the night but what does it matter? I live remembering
and the unquiet waves commence their the past
agony, and no one can ever take the past away from
across the air move cries that terrify the me.
spirit,
a chorus of voices praying, a lamentation It is my faithful friend that never turns
that seems against me,
to come from those who, long ago, drowned that cheers my spirit when my spirit’s a
in the sea. lonesome wraith,
that in my sleepless nights keeps watch with
Then do the mountain ranges on high me and prays
reverberate; with me, and shares with me my exile and
the trees stir far and wide, by a fit of my cabin,
trembling seized;
and, when all doubt, alone infuses me with I left, scarcely a youth, my land and my
faith. affections,
and vagrant eveywhere, with no qualms,
Faith do I have, and I believe the day will with no terrors,
shine squandered in foreign lands the April of my
when the Idea shall defeat brute force as life.
well;
and after the struggle and the lingering And afterwards, when I desired, a weary
agony swallow,
a voice more eloquent and happier than my to go back to the nest of those for whom I
own care,
will then know how to utter victory’s suddenly fiercely roared a violent hurricane
canticle. and I found my wings broken, my dwelling
place demolished,
I see the heavens shining, as flawless and faith now sold to others, and ruins
refulgent everywhere.
as in the days that saw my first illusions
start; Hurled upon a rock of the country I adore;
I feel the same breeze kissing my autumnal the future ruined; no home, no health to
brow, bring me cheer;
the same that once enkindled my fervent you come to me anew, dreams of rose and
enthusiasm gold,
and turned the blood ebullient within my of my entire existence the solitary treasure,
youthful heart. convictions of a youth that was healthy and
sincere.
Across the fields and rivers of my native
town No more are you, like once, full of fire and
perhaps has travelled the breeze that now I life,
breathe by chance; offering a thousand crowns to immortality;
perhaps it will give back to me what once I somewhat serious I find you; and yet your
gave it: face beloved,
the sighs and kisses of a person idolized if now no longer as merry, if now no longer
and the sweet secrets of a virginal romance. as vivid,
now bear the superscription of fidelity.
On seeing the same moon, as silvery as
before, You offer me, O illusions, the cup of
I feel within me the ancient melancholy consolation;
revive; you come to reawaken the years of youthful
a thousand memories of love and vows mirth;
awaken: hurricane, I thank you; winds of heaven, I
a patio, an azotea, a beach, a leafy bower; thank you
silences and sighs, and blushes of delight that in good hour suspended by uncertain
flight
A butterfly athirst for radiances and colors, to bring me down to the bosom of my native
dreaming of other skies and of a larger earth.
strife,
Beside a spacious beach of fine and delicate My dreams, when a young man in the prime
sand of life,
and at the foot of a mountain greener than a Were to see you one day, jewel of the
leaf, eastern seas,
I found in my land a refuge under a pleasant Dry those dark eyes, raise that forehead
orchard, high,
and in its shadowy forests, serene Without frown, without wrinkle, without
tranquility, stain of shame.
repose to my intellect and silence to my
grief. My lifelong dream, my deep burning desire,
Is for this soul that will soon depart to cry
out: Salud!
To your health! Oh how beautiful to fall to
MY LAST FAREWELL (Mi give you flight,
Ultimo Adios, December 1896) To die to give you life, to rest under your
sky,
And in your enchanted land forever sleep.
Farewell, beloved Country, treasured region
of the sun, If upon my grave one day you may behold,
Pearl of the sea of the Orient, our Amidst the dense grass, a simple lowly
vanquished Eden! flower,
To you I gladly surrender this melancholy Place it upon your lips, and my soul you’ll
life; kiss,
And were it brighter, fresher, gaudier, And on my brow may I feel, under the cold
Even then I’d give it to you, to you alone tomb,
would then I give. The tenderness of your touch, the warmth of
your breath.
In fields of battle, deliriously fighting,
Others give you their lives, without doubt, Let the moon see me in soft and tranquil
without regret; light,
Where there’s cypress, laurel or lily, Let the dawn burst forth its fleeting
On a plank or open field, in combat or cruel radiance,
martyrdom, Let the wind moan with its gentle murmur,
If the home or country asks, it's all the same- And should a bird descend and rest on my
-it matters not. cross,
Let it sing its canticle of peace.
I die when I see the sky unfurls its colors
And at last after a cloak of darkness Let the burning sun evaporate the rain,
announces the day; And with the struggle behind, towards the
If you need scarlet to tint your dawn, sky may they turn pure;
Paint with my blood, pour it as the moment Let a friend mourn my early demise,
comes, And in the serene afternoon, when someone
And may it be gilded by a reflection of the prays for me,
heaven’s new-born light. O Country, pray that God will also grant me
My dreams, even as a child, rest!
Pray for all the unfortunate ones who died, Goodbye, sweet stranger, my friend, my joy;
For all who suffered torment unequaled, Farewell, loved ones. To die is to rest.
For grieving mothers who in bitterness cry,
For orphans and widows, for prisoners in
torture,
And for yourself to see your redemption at UNDATED POEM
last. . A FRAGMENT (A Poem that has
no title)
And when the burial ground is shrouded in
dark night,
And there alone, only the departed remain in
To my Creator I sing,
vigil,
to my All-Merciful Lord, the Omnipotent,
Disturb not their rest, nor their secrets,
who hushed my suffering
And should you hear chords from a zither or
and his sweet solace sent
harp,
to ease me while in tribulation I went.
'Tis I, O land beloved, 'tis I, to you I sing !
You, with authority,
And when my grave, then by all forgotten,
said: Live; and I myself to life came forth;
has not a cross nor stone to mark its place,
free will you gave to me
Let men plow and with a spade disperse it,
and a soul that must find worth
And before my ashes return to nothing,
in goodness, like a compass needle set north.
May they be the dust that carpets your
fields.
You willed my birth to be
of honorable parents, a house of honor;
Then nothing matters, cast me in oblivion.
and a country you granted me:
Your air, your space, your valleys I will
rich, fair to all who won her,
cross.
though fortune and prudence may be scarce
I will be vibrant music to your ears,
upon her.
Aroma, light, colors, murmur, moan, and
song,
Ever echoing the essence of my faith.