Jose Rizal bids his family farewell — "It is better to die than to live suffering" — How he wishes

to be buried.

The letter bears no date. (1)

To my family,

I ask you for forgiveness for the pain I cause you, but some day I shall have to die and it is
better that I die now in the plentitude of my conscience.

Dear parents and brothers: give thanks to God that I may preserve my tranquility before my
death. I die resigned, hoping that with my death you will be left in peace. Ah! It is better to die
than to live suffering. Console yourselves.

I enjoin you to forgive one another the little meanness of life and try to live united in peace and
good harmony. Treat your old parents as you would like to be treated by your children later.
Love them very much in my memory.

Bury me in the ground. Place a stone and a cross over it. My name, the date of my birth and of
my death. Nothing more. If later you wish to surround my grave with a fence, you can do it. No
anniversaries. I prefer Paang Bundok. (2)

Have pity on poor Josephine.

(1) This letter was among the Rizal documents presented to the Republic of the Philippines by
Spain through her ministers of foreign affairs, Martin Artajo on 26 February 1953. It has no date,
but it must have been written at Fort Santiago shortly before he was led to his execution on
Bagumbayan, Manila. These documents are published in one volume, Documentos Rizalinos,
Manila 1953, by the Philippine government.
(2) Paang Bundok literally means foot of the mountain. It is the place in the north of Manila
where are the North Cemetery, a municipal cemetery, and the Chinese Cemetery. Rizal was
buried, not in a humble place in Paang Bundok, as he wished but in the Cemetery of Paco. On 30
December 1912, the Commission on the Rizal Monument, created by virtue of Law No. 243,
transferred his remains to the base of the monuments erected on the Luneta, very near to the
place where he was shot.
Mi último adiós My Last Farewell
¡Adiós, Patria adorada, región del Farewell, beloved Country, treasured region of
sol querida, the sun,
Perla del mar de oriente, nuestro Pearl of the sea of the Orient, our lost Eden!
perdido Edén! To you eagerly I surrender this sad and
A darte voy alegre la triste mustia gloomy life;
vida, And were it brighter, fresher, more florid,
Y fuera más brillante, más fresca, Even then I’d give it to you, for your sake
más florida, alone.
También por ti la diera, la diera por
tu bien. In fields of battle, deliriously fighting,
Others give you their lives, without doubt,
En campos de batalla, luchando without regret;
con delirio, The place matters not: where there’s cypress,
Otros te dan sus vidas sin dudas, laurel or lily,
sin pesar; On a plank or open field, in combat or cruel
El sitio nada importa, ciprés, laurel martyrdom,
o lirio, It’s all the same if the home or country asks.
Cadalso o campo abierto, combate
o cruel martirio, I die when I see the sky has unfurled its colors
Lo mismo es si lo piden la patria y And at last after a cloak of darkness
el hogar. announces the day;
 
If you need scarlet to tint your dawn,
Yo muero cuando veo que el cielo Shed my blood, pour it as the moment comes,
se colora And may it be gilded by a reflection of the
Y al fin anuncia el día tras lóbrego heaven’s newly-born light.
capuz;
si grana necesitas para teñir tu My dreams, when scarcely an adolescent,
aurora, My dreams, when a young man already full of
Vierte la sangre mía, derrámala en life,
buen hora Were to see you one day, jewel of the sea of
Y dórela un reflejo de su naciente the Orient,
luz. Dry those eyes of black, that forehead high,
Without frown, without wrinkles, without
Mis sueños cuando apenas stains of shame.
muchacho adolescente,
Mis sueños cuando joven ya lleno My lifelong dream, my deep burning desire,
de vigor, This soul that will soon depart cries out:
Fueron el verte un día, joya del Salud!
mar de oriente, To your health! Oh how beautiful to fall to
Secos los negros ojos, alta la tersa give you flight,
frente, To die to give you life, to die under your sky,
Sin ceño, sin arrugas, sin manchas And in your enchanted land eternally sleep.
de rubor
If upon my grave one day you see appear,
Ensueño de mi vida, mi ardiente Amidst the dense grass, a simple humble
vivo anhelo, flower,
¡Salud te grita el alma que pronto Place it near your lips and my soul you’ll kiss,
va a partir! And on my brow may I feel, under the cold
¡Salud! Ah, que es hermoso caer tomb,
por darte vuelo, The gentle blow of your tenderness, the
Morir por darte vida, morir bajo tu warmth of your breath.
cielo,
Y en tu encantada tierra la Let the moon see me in a soft and tranquil
eternidad dormir. light,
Let the dawn send its fleeting radiance,
Si sobre mi sepulcro vieres brotar Let the wind moan with its low murmur,
un día And should a bird descend and rest on my
Entre la espesa yerba sencilla, cross,
humilde flor, Let it sing its canticle of peace.
Acércala a tus labios y besa al alma
mía, Let the burning sun evaporate the rains,
Y sienta yo en mi frente bajo la And with my clamor behind, towards the sky
tumba fría, may they turn pure;
De tu ternura el soplo, de tu hálito Let a friend mourn my early demise,
el calor. And in the serene afternoons, when someone
prays for me,
Deja a la luna verme con luz O Country, pray to God also for my rest!
tranquila y suave,
Deja que el alba envíe su Pray for all the unfortunate ones who died,
resplandor fugaz, For all who suffered torments unequaled,
Deja gemir al viento con su For our poor mothers who in their grief and
murmullo grave, bitterness cry,
Y si desciende y posa sobre mi For orphans and widows, for prisoners in
cruz un ave, torture,
Deja que el ave entone su cántico And for yourself pray that your final
de paz. redemption you’ll see.

Deja que el sol, ardiendo, las
lluvias evapore
Y al cielo tornen puras, con mi
clamor en pos;
Deja que un ser amigo mi fin
temprano llore
Y en las serenas tardes cuando por
mí alguien ore,
¡Ora también, oh Patria, por mi
descanso a Dios!
Ora por todos cuantos murieron sin Let men plow and with a spade scatter it,
And when the cemetery is enveloped in dark
night,
And there, alone, only those who have gone
remain in vigil,
Disturb not their rest, nor the mystery,
And should you hear chords from a zither or
psaltery,
It is I, beloved Country, singing to you.
And when my grave, then by all forgotten,
has not a cross nor stone to mark its place,
ventura,
Por cuantos padecieron tormentos
sin igual,
Por nuestras pobres madres que
gimen su amargura;
Por huérfanos y viudas, por presos
en tortura
Y ora por ti que veas tu redención
final.
Y cuando en noche oscura se
envuelva el cementerio
Y solos sólo muertos queden
velando allí,
No turbes su reposo, no turbes el
misterio,
Tal vez acordes oigas de cítara o
salterio,
Soy yo, querida Patria, yo que te
canto a ti.
Y cuando ya mi tumba de todos
olvidada
No tenga cruz ni piedra que
marquen su lugar,
Deja que la are el hombre, la
esparza con la azada,
Y mis cenizas, antes que vuelvan a
la nada,
El polvo de tu alfombra que vayan
a formar.
And before my ashes return to nothing,
May they be the dust that carpets your fields.
Then nothing matters, cast me in oblivion.
Your atmosphere, your space and valleys I’ll
cross.
I will be a vibrant and clear note to your ears,
Aroma, light, colors, murmur, moan, and
song,
Constantly repeating the essence of my faith.
My idolized country, sorrow of my sorrows,
Beloved Filipinas, hear my last good-bye.
There I leave you all, my parents, my loves.
I’ll go where there are no slaves, hangmen nor
oppressors,
Where faith doesn’t kill, where the one who
reigns is God.
Goodbye, dear parents, brother and sisters,
fragments of my soul,
Childhood friends in the home now lost,
Give thanks that I rest from this wearisome
day;
Goodbye, sweet foreigner, my friend, my joy;
Farewell, loved ones, to die is to rest.
José Rizal, 1896

Entonces nada importa me pongas

en olvido.
Tu atmósfera, tu espacio, tus valles
cruzaré.
Vibrante y limpia nota seré para tu
oído,
Aroma, luz, colores, rumor, canto,
gemido,
Constante repitiendo la esencia de
mi fe.

Mi patria idolatrada, dolor de mis

dolores,
Querida Filipinas, oye el postrer
adiós.
Ahí te dejo todo, mis padres, mis
amores.
Voy donde no hay esclavos,
verdugos ni opresores,
Donde la fe no mata, donde el que
reina es Dios.

Adiós, padres y hermanos, trozos

del alma mía,
Amigos de la infancia en el
perdido hogar,
Dad gracias que descanso del
fatigoso día;
Adiós, dulce extranjera, mi amiga,
mi alegría,
Adiós, queridos seres, morir es
descansar.

José Rizal, 1896