Rizal as a Poet: Memories of My Town, A La Juventud Filipina, and Mi Ultimo Adiés Memories of My Town Jose Rizal When! remember the days that saw my early childhood spenton the green shores of a murmurous lagoon; when |rememberthe coolness, delicious and refreshing, that on my face I felt as | heard Favonius croon; when | beholdthe white lily swell tothe wind’s impulsion, and that tempestuouselement meeklyasleep onthe sand; when | inhale the dear intoxicatingessence the flowers exude when dawn issmilingon the land; sadly, sadly! recall your visage, precious childhood, whichan affectionate mother made beautiful and bright; Irecallasimpletown, my comfort, joy and cradle, beside abalmy lake, the seat of my delight. Ah, yes, my awkward foot explored your sombre woodlands, and on the banks of your rivers in frolic | took part. | prayedinyour rustic temple, a child, with a child's devotion; and your unsullied breeze exhilarated my heart. The Creator! saw in the grandeur of your age-old forests; upon your bosom, sorrows were ever unknown to me; while at your azure skies | gazed, neither love nortenderness failedme, for in nature lay my felicity. Tender childhood, beautiful town, rich fountain of rejoicing and of harmonious music that drove away all pain: returnto this heart of mine, return mygracious hours, returnas the birds return when flowers springagain! But 0 goodbye! May the Spirit of Good, a loving gift-giver, keep watcheternally over your peace, your joy, your sleep! For you, my fervent pryers; for you, my constant desire tolearn;and | prayheaven your innocence tokeep! a (To tthe Jose Rizal ALaJuventud Hold high the brow serene, Oyouth, where now you stand; Letthe brightsheen Of your grace be seen, Fair hope of my fatherland! Come now, thou genius grand, ‘And bring down inspiration; With thy mighty hand, Swifter than the wind’s violation, Raise the eager mindto higher station. Come down with pleasing light Of artand science tothe fight, © youth, and there untie The chains that heavy lie, Your spirit free to blight. See how in flamingzone Amidthe shadows thrown, The Spaniard'a holy hand A crown'sresplendent band Proffersto this Indian|and. Thou, who now wouldst rise On wings ofrichemprise, Seeking from Olympianskies Songs of sweeteststrain, Softer than ambrosial rain; Thou, whose voice divine Rivals Philomel’s refrain And withvaiiedline Through the night benign Frees mortality from pain; Thou, who by sharp strife Wakest thy mindto life; And the memory bright Of thy genius’ light Makest immortal inits strength; And thou, inaccents clear Of Phoebus, to Apelles dear; Or by the brush’s magic art Takest from nature's storea part, Tofig it on the simplecanvas' length; Go forth, and then the sacred fire Of thy geniusto the laurel may aspire; To spreadaround the fame, And invictoryacclaim, Through wider spheres the human name.Day, O happy day, Fair Filipinas, for thy land! So blessthe Power to-day That placesinthy way This favor and this fortune grand! My Last Farewell ( Jose Rizal imo Adios) Farewell, myadoredLand, region of the sun caressed, Peatl ofthe Orient Sea, our Eden lost, With gladness! give you my Life, sad and repressed; And wereit more brilliant, more fresh andat best, | wouldstill give it to you for your welfare at most. On the fields of battle, inthe fury of fight, Others give you their lives without painor hesitancy, The place doesnot matter:cypress laurel, lily white, Scaffold, open field, conflict or martyrdom'ssite, Itis the same ifasked by home and Country. | die as | see tints on the sky b’ginto show And at last announce the day, ater a gloomy night; If you needa hue to dye your matutinal glow, Pour my bloodand at the right moment spreadit so, And gildit with a reflection ofyour nascent light! My dreams, when scarcelyalad adolescent, My dreams whenalreadya youth, full of vigor to Were to see you, gem of the seaofthe Orient, Your dark eyes dry, smooth brow held to a high plane Without frown, without wrinklesandof shame without stain. My life's fancy, my ardent, passionate desire, HaillCries outthe soul to you, that will soon part from thee; Haill How sweet'tis ofall that fullnessyoumay acquire; To die to give you life, ‘neath your skies to expire, And inyour mysticlandto sleepthrough eternity! Ifovermy tomb some day, you would see blow, Asimple humble flow'ramidst thick grasses, Bring itup to your lipsand kiss my soul so, And under the coldtomb, may feel on my brow, Warmth of your breath, a whiff of your tenderness. Letthe moon with soft, gentle light me descry, Let the dawn send forth its fleeting, brilliant light, In murmurs grave allow the wind to sigh, And shoulda bird descendon my crossand alight, Letthe birdintone a song of peace o'er mysite Letthe burning sun the raindrops vaporize And with my clamor behind return pure tothe sky Leta friend shed tears overmy early der And on quietafternoons when one prays for me on high, Pray too, oh, my Motherland, that in God may rest I. Pray thee forall the hapless who have died, For all those who unequalledtorments have undergone; For our poor mothers whoin bitterness have cried; For orphans, widowsand captivestotortures were shied, And pray too that you may see your own redemption. And when the dark night wrapsthe cemet’ry And only the dead to vigil there are leftalone, Don't disturb their repose, don’t disturb the mystery: Ifyou hear the sounds of cittern or psaltery, Itis ,dear Country, who, a song t'you intone. And when my grave byall is no more remembered, With neither crossnor stone to markits place, Letit be plowedby man, with spade letit be scattered And myashesere to nothingness ate restored, Letthem turn to dust to cover your earthly space. Then itdoesn't matterthat you should forget me: Your atmosphere, yourskies, yourvales I'l sweep; Vibrantand clear note to your ears |shall be: ‘Aroma, light, hues, murmur, song, moanings deep, Constantly repeatingthe essence ofthe faith! keep. My idolized Country, for whom I most gravely pine, Dear Philippines, tomy ast goodbye, oh, harken There | leave all: my parents, loves of mine, I'll go where there are no slaves, tyrants or hangmen Where faith does not kill and where Godalone does reign. Farewell, parents, brothers, belovedbyme, Friends of my childhood, in the home distressed; Give thanks that now I est from the wearisome day; Farewell, sweet stranger, my friend, who brightenedmy way; Farewell, toall love.To dieisto rest