Rizals Writings

7/29/2019 Rizals Writings

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Works of Rizal----------------

Compiled by: Michael John Cabanban & Lanie Olea (S.Y. 2011-2012)1

TO THE YOUNG WOMEN OF MALOLOS

NOTE:Rizal wrote this famous letter in Tagalog, while he was residing in London, upon the request of

M. H. del Pilar. The story behind this letter is this: On December 12, 1888, a group of twenty young

women of Malolos petitioned Governor-General Weyler for permission to open a night school so thatthey might study Spanish under Teodoro Sandiko. Fr. Felipe Garcia, the Spanish parish priest, objected

to the proposal. Therefore the governor-general turned down the petition. However, the young women,in defiance of the friars wrath, bravely continued their agitation for the school a thing unheard of inthe Philippines in those times. Del Pilar, writing in Barcelona on February 17, 1889, requested Rizal to

send a letter in Tagalog to the brave women of Malolos. Accordingly, Rizal, although busy in London

annotating Morgas book penned this famous letter and sent it to Del Pilar on February 22, 1889 fortransmittal to Malolos.

When I wrote Noli Me Tangere, I asked myself whether bravery was a common thing in the young women

of our people. I brought back to my recollection and reviewed those I had known since my infancy, but

there were only few who seem to come up to my ideal. There was, it is true, an abundance of girls with

agreeable manners, beautiful ways, and modest demeanor, but there was in all an admixture of servitude

and deference to the words or whims of their so-called "spiritual fathers" (as if the spirit or soul had any

father other than God), due to excessive kindness, modesty, or perhaps ignorance.

Now that you have responded to our first appeal in the interest of the welfare of the people; now that you

have set an example to those who, like you, long to have their eyes opened and be delivered from

servitude, new hopes are awakened in us and we now even dare to face adversity, because we have you

for our allies and are confident of victory. No longer does the Filipina stand with her head bowed nor

does she spend her time on her knees, because she is quickened by hope in the future; no longer will themother contribute to keeping her daughter in darkness and bring her up in contempt and moral

annihilation. And no longer will the science of all sciences consist in blind submission to any unjust

order, or in extreme complacency, nor will a courteous smile be deemed the only weapon against insult or

humble tears the ineffable panacea for all tribulations. You know that the will of God is different from

that of the priest; that religiousness does not consist of long periods spent on your knees, nor in endless

prayers, big rosarios, and grimy scapularies [religious garment showing devotion], but in a spotlessconduct, firm intention and upright judgment. You also know that prudence does not consist in blindly

obeying any whim of the little tin god, but in obeying only that which is reasonable and just, because

blind obedience is itself the cause and origin of those whims, and those guilty of it are really to be

blamed. The official or friar can no longer assert that they alone are responsible for their unjust orders,

because God gave each individual reason and a will of his or her own to distinguish the just from the

unjust; all were born without shackles and free, and nobody has a right to subjugate the will and the spirit

of another your thoughts. And, why should you submit to another your thoughts, seeing that thought is

noble and free?

It is cowardice and erroneous to believe that saintliness consists in blind obedience and that prudence and

the habit of thinking are presumptuous. Ignorance has ever been ignorance, and never prudence and

honor. God, the primal source of all wisdom, does not demand that man, created in his image andlikeness, allow himself to be deceived and hoodwinked, but wants us to use and let shine the light of

reason with which He has so mercifully endowed us. He may be compared to the father who gave each of

his sons a torch to light their way in the darkness bidding them keep its light bright and take care of it, and

not put it out and trust to the light of the others, but to help and advise each other to fiind the right path.

They would be madman were they to follow the light of another, only to come to a fall, and the father

could unbraid them and say to them: "Did I not give each of you his own torch," but he cold not say so if

the fall were due to the light of the torch of him who fell, as the light might have been dim and the road

very bad.


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The deceiver is fond of using the saying that "It is presumptuous to rely on one's own judgment," but, in

my opinion, it is more presumptuous for a person to put his judgment above that of the others and try to

make it prevail over theirs. It is more presumptuous for a man to constitute himself into an idol and

pretend to be in communication of thought with God; and it is more than presumptuous and even

blasphemous for a person to attribute every movement of his lips to God, to represent every whim of his

as the will of God, and to brand his own enemy as an enemy of God. Of course, we should not consultour own judgment alone, but hear the opinion of others before doing what may seem most reasonable to

us. The wild man from the hills, if clad in a priest's robe, remains a hillman and can only deceive the

weak and ignorant. And, to make my argument more conclusive, just buy a priest's robe as the

Franciscans wear it and put it on a carabao [domestic water buffalo], and you will be lucky if the carabao

does not become lazy on account of the robe. But I will leave this subject to speak of something else.

Youth is a flower-bed that is to bear rich fruit and must accumulate wealth for its descendants. What

offspring will be that of a woman whose kindness of character is expressed by mumbled prayers; who

knows nothing by heart butawits [hymns], novenas, and the alleged miracles; whose amusement consists

in playing panguingue [a card game] or in the frequentconfession of the same sins? What sons will she

have but acolytes, priest's servants, or cockfighters? It is the mothers who are responsible for the present

servitude of our compatriots, owing to the unlimited trustfulness of their loving hearts, to their ardentdesire to elevate their sons Maturity is the fruit of infancy and the infant is formed on the lap of its

mother. The mother who can only teach her child how to kneel and kiss hands must not expect sons with

blood other than that of vile slaves. A tree that grows in the mud is unsubstantial and good only for

firewood. If her son should have a bold mind, his boldness will be deceitful and will be like the bat thatcannot show itself until the ringing of vespers. They say that prudence is sanctity. But, what sanctity

have they shown us? To pray and kneel a lot, kiss the hand of the priests, throw money away on

churches, and believe all the friar sees fit to tell us; gossip, callous rubbing of noses. . . .

As to the mites and gifts of God, is there anything in the world that does not belong to God? What would

you say of a servant making his master a present of a cloth borrowed from that very master? Who is so

vain, so insane that he will give alms to God and believe that the miserable thing he has given will serve

to clothe the Creator of all things? Blessed be they who succor their fellow men, aid the poor and feed thehungry; but cursed be they who turn a dead ear to supplications of the poor, who only give to him who

has plenty and spend their money lavishly on silver altar hangings for the thanksgiving, or in serenades

and fireworks. The money ground out of the poor is bequeathed to the master so that he can provide for

chains to subjugate, and hire thugs and executioners. Oh, what blindness, what lack of understanding.

Saintliness consists in the first place in obeying the dictates of reason, happen what may. "It is acts and

not words that I want of you," said Christ. "Not everyone that sayeth unto me, Lord, Lord shall enter into

the kingdom of heaven; but he that doeth the will of my Father which is in Heaven." Saintliness does not

consist in abjectness, nor is the successor of Christ to be recognized by the fact that he gives his hand to

be kissed. Christ did not give the kiss of peace to the Pharisees and never gave his hand to be kissed. He

did not cater to the rich and vain; He did not mention scapularies, nor did He make rosaries, or solicit

offerings for the sacrifice of the Mass or exact payments for His prayers. Saint John did not demand a feeon the River Jordan, nor did Christ teach for gain. Why, then, do the friars now refuse to stir a foot unless

paid in advance? And, as if they were starving, they sell scapularies, rosaries, bits, and other things which

are nothing but schemes for making money and a detriment to the soul; because even if all the rags on

earth were converted into scapularies and all the trees in the forest into rosaries, and if the skins of all the

beasts were made into belts, and if all the priests of the earth mumbled prayers over all this and sprinkled

oceans of holy water over it, this would not purify a rogue or condone sin where there is no repentance.

Thus, also, through cupidity and love of money, they will, for a price, revoke the numerous prohibitions

such as those against eating meat, marrying close relatives, etc. You can do almost anything if you but


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grease their palms. Why that? Can God be bribed and bought off, and blinded by money, nothing more

nor less than a friar? The brigand who has obtained a bull of compromise can live calmly on the proceeds

of his robbery, because he will be forgiven. God, then, will sit at a table where theft provides the viands?

Has the Omnipotent become a pauper that He must assume the role of the excise man or gendarme? If

that is the God whom the friar adores, then I turn my back upon that God.

Let us be reasonable and open our eyes, especially you women, because you are the first to influence theconsciousness of man. Remember that a good mother does not resemble the mother that the friar has

created; she must bring up her child to be the image of the true God, not of a blackmailing, a grasping

God, but of a God who is the father of us all, who is just; who does not suck the life-blood of the poor like

a vampire, nor scoffs at the agony of the sorely beset, nor makes a crooked path of the path of justice.

Awaken and prepare the will of our children towards all that is honorable, judged by proper standards, to

all that is sincere and firm of purpose, clear judgment, clear procedure, honesty in act and deed, love for

the fellowman and respect for God; this is what you must teach your children. And, seeing that life is full

of thorns and thistles, you must fortify their minds against any stroke of adversity and accustom them to

danger. The people cannot expect honor nor prosperity so long as they will educate their children in a

wrong way, so long as the woman who guides the child in his steps is slavish and ignorant. No good

water comes from a turbid, bitter spring; no savory fruit comes from acrid seed.

The duties that woman has to perform in order to deliver the people from suffering are of no little

importance, but be they as they may, they will not be beyond the strength and stamina of the Filipino

people. The power and good judgment of the women of the Philippines are well known, and it is because

of this that she has been hoodwinked, and tied, and rendered pusillanimous, and now her enslavers rest atease, because so long as they can keep the Filipina mother a slave, so long will they be able to make

slaves of her children. The cause of the backwardness of Asia lies in the fact that there the women are

ignorant, are slaves; while Europe and America are powerful because there the women are free and well-

educated and endowed with lucid intellect and a strong will.

We know that you lack instructive books; we know that nothing is added to your intellect, day by day,

save that which is intended to dim its natural brightness; all this we know, hence our desire to bring you

the light that illuminates your equals here in Europe. If that which I tell you does not provoke your angerand if you will pay a little attention to it then, however dense the mist may be that befogs our people, I

will make the utmost efforts to have it dissipated by the bright rays of the sun, which will give light,

thought they be dimmed. We shall not feel any fatigue if you help us: God, too, will help to scatter the

mist, because He is the God of truth: He will restore to its pristine condition the fame of the Filipina in

whom we now miss only a criterion of her own, because good qualities she has enough and to spare. This

is our dream; this is the desire we cherish in our hearts; to restore the honor of woman, who is half of our

heart, our companion in the joys and tribulations of life. If she is a maiden, the young man should love

her not only because of her beauty and her amiable character, but also on account of her fortitude of mind

and loftiness of purpose, which quicken and elevate the feeble and timid and ward off all vain thoughts.

Let the maiden be the pride of her country and command respect, because it is a common practice on the

part of Spaniards and friars here who have returned from the Islands to speak of the Filipina as

complaisant and ignorant, as if all should be thrown into the same class because of the missteps of a few,and as if women of weak character did not exist in other lands. As to purity what could the Filipina not

hold up to others!

Nevertheless, the returning Spaniards and friars, talkative and fond of gossip, can hardly find time enough

to brag and bawl, amidst guffaws and insulting remarks, that a certain woman was thus; that she behaved

thus at the convent and conducted herself thus with the Spaniards who on the occasion was her guest, and

other things that set your teeth on edge when you think of them which, in the majority of cases, were

faults due to candor, excessive kindness, meekness, or perhaps ignorance and were all the work of the


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defamer himself. There is a Spaniard now in high office, who has set at our table and enjoyed our

hospitality in his wanderings through the Philippines and who, upon his return to Spain, rushed forthwith

into print and related that on one occasion in Pampanga he demanded hospitality and ate, and slept at a

house and the lady of the house conducted herself in such and such a manner with him; this is how he

repaid the lady for her supreme hospitality! Similar insinuations are made by the friars to the chance

visitor from Spain concerning their very obedient confesandas, hand-kissers, etc., accompanied by smiles

and very significant winkings of the eye. In a book published by D. Sinibaldo de Mas and in other friarsketches sins are related of which women accused themselves in the confessional and of which the friars

made no secret in talking to their Spanish visitors seasoning them, at the best, with idiotic and shameless

tales not worthy of credence. I cannot repeat here the shameless stories that a friar told Mas and to which

Mas attributed no value whatever. Every time we hear or read anything of this kind, we ask each other:

Are the Spanish women all cut after the pattern of the Holy Virgin Mary and the Filipinas all reprobates?

I believe that if we are to balance accounts in this delicate question, perhaps, . . . But I must drop the

subject because I am neither a confessor nor a Spanish traveler and have no business to take away

anybody's good name. I shall let this go and speak of the duties of women instead.

A people that respect women, like the Filipino people, must know the truth of the situation in order to be

able to do what is expected of it. It seems an established fact that when a young student falls in love, he

throws everything to the dogs -- knowledge, honor, and money, as if a girl could not do anything but sowmisfortune. The bravest youth becomes a coward when he married, and the born coward becomes

shameless, as if he had been waiting to get married in order to show his cowardice. The son, in order to

hide his pusillanimity, remembers his mother, swallows his wrath, suffers his ears to be boxed, obeys the

most foolish order, and and becomes an accomplice to his own dishonor. It should be remembered thatwhere nobody flees there is no pursuer; when there is no little fish, there can not be a big one. Why does

the girl not require of her lover a noble and honored name, a manly heart offering protection to her

weakness, and a high spirit incapable of being satisfied with engendering slaves? Let her discard all fear,

let her behave nobly and not deliver her youth to the weak and faint-hearted. When she is married, she

must aid her husband, inspire him with courage, share his perils, refrain from causing him worry and

sweeten his moments of affection, always remembering that there is no grief that a brave heart can not

bear and there is no bitterer inheritance than that of infamy and slavery. Open your children's eyes so that

they may jealously guard their honor, love their fellowmen and their native land, and do their duty.Always impress upon them they must prefer dying with honor to living in dishonor. The women of

Sparta should serve you as an example should serve you as an example in this; I shall give some of their

characteristics.

When a mother handed the shield to her son as he was marching to battle, she said nothing to him but

this: "Return with it, or on it," which mean, come back victorious or dead, because it was customary with

the routed warrior to throw away his shield, while the dead warrior was carried home on his shield. A

mother received word that her son had been killed in battle and the army routed. She did not say a word,

but expressed her thankfulness that her son had been saved from disgrace. However, when her son

returned alive, the mother put on mourning. One of the mothers who went out to meet the warriors

returning from battle was told by one that her three sons had fallen. I do not ask you that, said the mother

but whether we have been victorious or not. We have been victorious -- answered the warrior. If that isso, then let us thank God, and she went to the temple.

Once upon a time a king of theirs, who had been defeated, hid in the temple, because he feared their

popular wrath. The Spartans resolved to shut him up there and starve him to death. When they were

blocking the door, the mother was the first to bring stones. These things were in accordance with the

custom there, and all Greece admired the Spartan woman. Of all women -- a woman said jestingly -- only

your Spartans have power over the men. Quite natural -- they replied -- of all women only we give birth

to men. Man, the Spartan women said, was not born to life for himself alone but for his native land. So


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long as this way of thinking prevailed and they had that kind of women in Sparta, no enemy was able to

put his foot upon her soil, nor was there a woman in Sparta who ever saw a hostile army.

I do not expect to be believed simply because it is I who am saying this; there are many people who do

not listen to reason, but will listen only to those who wear the cassock or have gray hair or no teeth; but

while it is true that the aged should be venerated, because of their travails and experience, yet the life I

have lived, consecrated to the happiness of the people, adds some years, though not many of my age. I donot pretend to be looked upon as an idol or fetish and to be believed and listened to with the eyes closed,

the head bowed, and the arms crossed over the breast; what I ask of all is to reflect on what I tell him,

think it over and shift it carefully through the sieve of reasons.

First of all. That the tyranny of some is possible only through cowardice and negligence on the part of

others.

Second. What makes one contemptible is lack of dignity and abject fear of him who holds one in

contempt.

Third. Ignorance is servitude, because as a man thinks, so he is; a man who does not think for himself

and allowed himself to be guided by the thought of another is like the beast led by a halter.

Fourth. He who loves his independence must first aid his fellowman, because he who refuses protection

to others will find himself without it; the isolated rib in the buri is easily broken, but not so the broom

made of the ribs of the palm bound together.

Fifth. If the Filipina will not change her mode of being, let her rear no more children, let her merely give

birth to them. She must cease to be the mistress of the home, otherwise she will unconsciously betray

husband, child, native land, and all.

Sixth. All men are born equal, naked, without bonds. God did not create man to be a slave; nor did he

endow him with intelligence to have him hoodwinked, or adorn him with reason to have him deceived by

others. It is not fatuous to refuse to worship one's equal, to cultivate one's intellect, and to make use ofreason in all things. Fatuous is he who makes a god of him, who makes brutes of others, and who strives

to submit to his whims all that is reasonable and just.

Seventh. Consider well what kind of religion they are teaching you. See whether it is the will of God or

according to the teachings of Christ that the poor be succored and those who suffer alleviated. Consider

what they preaching to you, the object of the sermon, what is behind the masses, novenas, rosaries,

scapularies, images, miracles, candles, belts, etc. etc; which they daily keep before your minds; ears and

eyes; jostling, shouting, and coaxing; investigate whence they came and whiter they go and then compare

that religion with the pure religion of Christ and see whether the pretended observance of the life of Chris

does not remind you of the fat milk cow or the fattened pig, which is encouraged to grow fat nor through

love of the animal, but for grossly mercenary motives.

Let us, therefore, reflect; let us consider our situation and see how we stand. May these poorly written

lines aid you in your good purpose and help you to pursue the plan you have initiated. "May your profit

be greater than the capital invested;" and I shall gladly accept the usual reward of all who dare tell your

people the truth. May your desire to educate yourself be crowned with success; may you in the garden of

learning gather not bitter, but choice fruit, looking well before you eat because on the surface of the globe

all is deceit, and the enemy sows weeds in your seedling plot.

All this is the ardent desire of your compatriot.


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MY FIRST INSPIRATION

NOTE: Rizal was a versatile poet, for he could write on any topic that had an impact on his life. he had a

very high regard for education for he believed that the progress and welfare of a nation were dependent on

it, so much so that this belief was encountered again in his advice to the revolutionary leaders that

freedom should be attained by peaceful means: by education and industry.

On his mothers birthday, he dedicated the poem: Mi Primera Inspiracion (My First Inspiration), whenhe was only 14 years of age. the poem is as follows:

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,

more fair than on other days,

the dawn's enchanting face

among red clouds appearing?

The reason, dear mother, is

they feast your day of bloom:

the rose with its perfume,

the bird with its harmonies.

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.


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TO MY FELLOW CHILDREN

NOTE: It was in a poem entitled To My Fellow Children that he manifested first his nationalisticsentiments. In this poem, he said that a people who truly love theirnative language will surely strive for

liberty, like a bird which soars to freer above, furthermore he averred that the Filipino language wasequally as elegant as rthat of other languages, Latin, English, Spanish and others.

The poem was witten when Rizal was only 8 years old but it portrayed mastery of an expert poet. the

poem was as follows:

Whenever people of a country truly love

The language which by heav'n they were taught to use

That country also surely liberty pursue

As does the bird which soars to freer space above.

For language is the final judge and referee

Upon the people in the land where it holds sway;

In truth our human race resembles in this way

The other living beings born in liberty.

Whoever knows not how to love his native tongue

Is worse than any best or evil smelling fish.

To make our language richer ought to be our wish

The same as any mother loves to feed her young.

Tagalog and the Latin language are the same

And English and Castilian and the angels' tongue;

And God, whose watchful care o'er all is flung,

Has given us His blessing in the speech we calim,

Our mother tongue, like all the highest tht we know

Had alphabet and letters of its very own;

But these were lost -- by furious waves were overthrown

Like bancas in the stormy sea, long years ago.


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OUR MOTHER TONGUE

NOTE: Jose Rizal's "Our Mother Tongue" talks of love and taking pride in one's own language. Seeing it

as a means for Filipinos to acquire a sense of freedom and identity, he stresses that Tagalog is much like

other foreign languages which are considered 'superior' to own.

A poem originally in Tagalog written by Rizal when he was only eight years old

If truly a people dearly love

The tongue to them by Heaven sent,

They'll surely yearn for liberty

Like a bird above in the firmament.

Because by its language one can judge

A town, a barrio, and kingdom;

And like any other created thing

Every human being loves his freedom.

One who doesn't love his native tongue,

Is worse than putrid fish and beast;

AND like a truly precious thing

It therefore deserves to be cherished.

The Tagalog language's akin to Latin,

To English, Spanish, angelical tongue;

For God who knows how to look after us

This language He bestowed us upon.

As others, our language is the same

With alphabet and letters of its own,

It was lost because a storm did destroy

On the lake the bangka 1 in years bygone.
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MEMORIES OF MY TOWN

NOTE: When Jose Rizal was fifteen years old and a student of Ateneo, he composed a poem entitled

Recuerdo a Mi Pueblo (In Memory of My Town) which vividly described his childhood years in

Calamba.

He was a frail, sickly, and undersized child. His parents gave him a tender loving care. His father built a

small nipa cottage for him to play during daytime. An Aya (housemaid) was employed to look after his

comfort. He remembered also the daily Angelus Prayer. By nightfall children were gathered at the houseto pray the Angelus. The happy moonlit nights at the azotea after reciting the Angelus. Stories he heard

from his Aya about fairies, tales of buried treasures, tress blooming with diamonds, and other fabulous

stories. Those tales tickled the imagination of Jose Rizal, which developed in him an enduring interest in

legends and folklore. Probably, he was truly an emotional poet; a nocturnal walk in the town under the

moonlight was also included in his memoirs.

When I recall the days

That saw my childhood of yore

Beside the verdant shoreOf a murmuring lagoon;

When I remember the sighs

Of the breeze that on my brow

Sweet and caressing did blow

With coolness full of delight;

When I look at the lily white

Fills up with air violent

And the stormy element

On the sand doth meekly sleep;

When sweet 'toxicating scent

From the flowers I inhale

Which at the dawn they exhale

When at us it begins to peep;

I sadly recall your face,

Oh precious infancy,

That a mother lovingly

Did succeed to embellish.

I remember a simple town;

My cradle, joy and boon,Beside the cool lagoon

The seat of all my wish.

Oh, yes! With uncertain pace

I trod your forest lands,

And on your river banks

A pleasant fun I found;

At your rustic temple I prayed

With a little boy's simple faithAnd your aura's flawless breath

Filled my heart with joy profound.

Saw I God in the grandeur

Of your woods which for centuries stand;

Never did I understand

In your bosom what sorrows were;

While I gazed on your azure sky

Neither love nor tenderness

Failed me, 'cause my happiness

In the heart of nature rests there.

Tender childhood, beautiful town,

Rich fountain of happiness,

Of harmonious melodies,

That drive away my sorrow!

Return thee to my heart,

Bring back my gentle hours

As do the birds when the flow'rs

Would again begin to blow!

But, alas, adieu! E'er watch

For your peace, joy and repose,Genius of good who kindly dispose

Of his blessings with amour;

It's for thee my fervent pray'rs,

It's for thee my constant desire

Knowledge ever to acquire

And may God keep your candour!


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SONG OF MARIA CLARA

NOTE: A poem, found in Rizal's book Noli Me Tangere, sung by Maria Clara, which accounts for the

title.

Sweet are the hours in one's own Native Land,

All there is friendly o'er which the sun shines above;

Vivifying is the breeze that wafts over her fields;

Even death is gratifying and more tender is love.

Ardent kissed on a mother's lips are at play,

On her lap, upon the infant child's awakening,

The extended arms do seek her neck to entwine,

And the eyes at each other's glimpse are smiling.

It is sweet to die in one's own Native Land,

All there is friendly o'er which the sun shines above;

And deathly is the breeze for one without

A country, without a mother and without love.


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TO THE PHILIPPINE YOUTHUnfold, oh timid flower!

NOTE: One of the famous poems written by Rizal is that entitled to the Filipino Youth which is a

virtualappeal to the youth of the land to do something for the motherland. this poem is described as a

Winning Classic in Philippine Literature, for two reasons: 1. it was the first Spanish poem written by a

Filipino, which gained recognition among known Spanish authors, and which is gained recognition

among known Spanish authors and 2. it contained for the first time, the nationalistic sentiment insinuating

that the Filipinos and not the foreigners were the fair hope of the Fatherland.

Lift up your radiant brow,

This day, Youth of my native strand!

Your abounding talents show

Resplendently and grand,

Fair hope of my Motherland!

Soar high, oh genius great,

And with noble thoughts fill their mind;

The honor's glorious seat,

May their virgin mind fly and find

More rapidly than the wind.

Descend with the pleasing light

Of the arts and sciences to the plain,

Oh Youth, and break forthright

The links of the heavy chain

That your poetic genius enchain.

See that in the ardent zone,

The Spaniard, where shadows stand,

Doth offer a shining crown,

With wise and merciful hand

To the son of this Indian land.

You, who heavenward rise

On wings of your rich fantasy,

Seek in the Olympian skies

The tenderest poesy,

More sweet than divine honey;

You of heavenly harmony,

On a calm unperturbed night,

Philomel's match in melody,

That in varied symphony

Dissipate man's sorrow's blight;

You at th' impulse of your mind

The hard rock animate

And your mind with great pow'r consigned

Transformed into immortal state

The pure mem'ry of genius great;

And you, who with magic brush

On canvas plain capture

The varied charm of Phoebus,

Loved by the divine Apelles,

And the mantle of Nature;

Run ! For genius' sacred flame

Awaits the artist's crowning

Spreading far and wide the fame

Throughout the sphere proclaiming

With trumpet the mortal's name

Oh, joyful, joyful day,

The Almighty blessed be

Who, with loving eagerness

Sends you luck and happiness.


12/29



FELICITATION

NOTE: Rizal was fourteen years old when he wrote this poem in 1875. Rizal congratulates Antonio Opez

his bother-in-law (husband of his sister, Narcisa), on his saints day.

If Philomela with harmonious tongue

To blond Apollo, who manifests his face

Behind high hill or overhanging mountain,

Canticles sends.

So we as well, full of a sweet contentment,

Salute you and your very noble saint

With tender music and fraternal measures,

Dear Antonino.

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.

From amorous wife and amiable Emilio

Sweetly receive an unsurpassed affection;

And may its sweetness in disaster soften

The ruder torments.

As the sea pilot, who so bravely fought

Tempestuous waters in the dark of night,

Gazes upon his darling vessel safe

And come to port.

So, setting aside all [worldly] predilections,

Now let your eyes be lifted heavenward

To him who is the solace of all men

And loving Father.

And from ourselves that in such loving accents

Salute you everywhere you celebrate,

These clamorous vivas that from the heart resound

Be pleased to accept.


13/29



GOODBYE TO LEONOR

NOTE: In this poem, Jose Rizal bids goodbye to Leonor Rivera for his departure to Europe.

And so it has arrived -- the fatal instant,

the dismal injunction of my cruel fate;

so it has come at last -- the moment, the date,

when I must separate myself from you.

Goodbye, Leonor, goodbye! I take my leave,

leaving behind with you my lover's heart!

Goodbye, Leonor: from here I now depart.

O Melancholy absence! Ah, what pain!

JOSEPHINE, JOSEPHINE

NOTE: While an exile in Dapitan, Rizal wrote a poem about Talisay, where he built a school, a hospital

and a home. His favorite rendezvous with his pupils was beneath the talisay tree. the poem, which he ask

his pupils to write has six(6) stanzas with eight(8) lines and a chorus of seven(7) lines.

Rizal dedicated this poem to Josephine Bracken, an Irish woman who went to Dapitan accompanying and

seeking Rizal's services as an ophthalmologist.

Who to these shores have come

Looking for a nest, a home,

Like a wandering swallow;

If your fate is taking you

To Japan, China or Shanghai,

Don't forget that on these shores

A heart for you beats high.
http://en.wikipilipinas.org/index.php?title=Jose_Rizalhttp://en.wikipilipinas.org/index.php?title=Leonor_Riverahttp://en.wikipilipinas.org/index.php?title=Leonor_Riverahttp://en.wikipilipinas.org/index.php?title=Jose_Rizal


14/29



KUNDIMAN

NOTE: Dr. Jose P. Rizal, the Philippine national hero, has consecrated the Kundiman in his social novel

Noli Me Tangere.

Now mute indeed are tongue and heart:

love shies away, joy stands apart.

Neglected by its leaders and defeated,

the country was subdued and it submitted.

But O the sun will shine again!

Itself the land shall disenchain;

and once more round the world with growing praise

shall sound the name of the Tagalog race.

We shall pour out our blood in a great flood

to liberate the parent sod;

but till that day arrives for which we weep,

love shall be mute, desire shall sleep.

WATER AND FIRE

INTERPRETATION: Water implies to us the continuity of life no matter what burdens come to our lives

which fire signifies. If only we will be united, there will be no war.

VALUE STATEMENT: If men would consider not so much wherein they differ, as wherein they agree,

there would be far less of uncharitabliness and angry feeling in the world.

Water are we, you say, and themselves fire

So let us be what we are and co-exist without ire,

And may no conflagration ever find us at war.

But, rather, fused together by cunning science

Within the cauldrons of the ardent breast,

Without rage, without defiance

Do we form steam, fifth element indeed:

Progress, life, enlightenment, and speed!


15/29



THE INTIMATE ALLIANCE BETWEEN

RELIGION AND EDUCATION

NOTE: This poem was written by Rizal was almost at the age of fifteen and a student at the Ateneo not

long before he graduated. It may be noted that the Jesuits held to a strong relationship between education

and faith, the ratio studiorum.

As the climbing ivy over lofty elm

Creeps tortuously, together the adornment

Of the verdant plain, embellishing

Each other and together growing,

But should the kindly elm refuse its aid

The ivy would impotent and friendless wither;

So is Education to Religion

By spiritual alliance firmly bound.

Through Religion, Education gains renown, and

Woe to the impious mind that blindly spurning

The sapient teachings of Religion, this

Unpolluted fountainhead forsakes.

As the sprout, growing from the pompous vine,

Proudly offers us its honeyed clusters

While the generous and freshning waters

Of celestial virtue give new life

To Education true, shedding

On it warmth and light; because of them

The vine smells sweet and gives delicious fruit.

Without Religion, Human Education

Is like unto a vessel struck by winds

Which, sore beset, is of its helm deprived

By the roaring blows and buffets of the dread

Tempestuous Boreas [The north wind -- rly], who fiercely wields

His power until he proudly sends her down

Into the deep abysses of the angered sea.

As heavens dew the meadow feeds and strengthens

So that blooming flowers all the earth

Embroider in the days of spring; so also

If Religion holy nourishes

Education with its doctrines, she

Shall walk in joy and generosity

Toward the Good, and everywhere bestrew

The fragrant and luxuriant fruits of Virtue.


16/29



TO THE FLOWERS OF HEIDELBERG

NOTE: In this poem, each stanza contains ten (10) lines or is in iambic pentameter. However, it is

strange, that the fourth stanza is only nine 9) lines. It is possible that the translator must have lost one line,

as Rizal has shown in all other poems to be consistent in form or structure.

In the years 1882 to 1855, Rizal journeyed and stayed in Paris and then in Berlin. In the spring of 1886,

while viewing the cool banks of the Neckar River, he was fascinated by the blooming forget-me-nots

along its banks and so impressed was he that he wrote a poem on April 22 of the same year, describing

such beautiful spring flowers entitled Flores de Heidelberg (To the Flowers of Heidelberg), which is

reproduced below:

Go to my country, go, O foreign flowers,

sown by the traveler along the road,

and under that blue heaven

that watches over my loved ones,

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,

you saw him silent beside you,

thinking of her constant vernal clime.

Say that when dawn

which steals your aroma

was whispering playful love songs to your young

sweet petals, he, too, murmured

canticles of love in his native tongue;

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, the glade, the forest,

he hails that sun, still in its dawning,

that in his country in full zenith blazes.

And tell of that day

when he collected you along the way

among the ruins of a feudal castle,

on the banks of the Neckar, or in a forest nook.

Recount the words he said

as, with great care,

between the pages of a worn-out book

he pressed the flexible petals that he took.

Carry, carry, O flowers,

my love to my loved ones,

peace to my country and its fecund loam,

faith to its men and virtue to its women,

health to the gracious beings

that dwell within the sacred paternal home.

When you reach that shore,

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, honor and

love!

But O you will arrive there, flowers,

and you will keep perhaps your vivid hues;

but far from your native heroic earth

to which you owe your life and worth,

your fragrances you will lose!

For fragrance is a spirit that never can forsake

and never forgets the sky that saw its birth.


17/29



THE SONG OF THE TRAVELER

NOTE: The Song of the Traveler was written when he received a letter from Governor Blanco on July

1, 1896, that his volunteer application for medical service in Cuba was accepted. On that score he was

very happy when he thought that at last he was free and that he was going to travel more.

Like to a leaf that is fallen and withered,

Tossed by the tempest from pole unto pole ;

hus roams the pilgrim abroad without purpose,

Roams without love, without country or soul.

Following anxiously treacherous fortune,

Fortune which e 'en as he grasps at it flees ;

Vain though the hopes that his yearning is seeking,

Yet does the pilgrim embark on the seas !

Ever impelled by the invisible power,Destined to roam from the East to the West ;

Oft he remembers the faces of loved ones,

Dreams of the day when he, too, was at rest.

Chance may assign him a tomb on the desert,

Grant him a final asylum of peace ;

Soon by the world and his country forgotten,

God rest his soul when his wanderings cease !

Often the sorrowing pilgrim is envied,

Circling the globe like a sea-gull above ;

Little, ah, little they know what a void

Saddens his soul by the absence of love.

Home may the pilgrim return in the future,

Back to his loved ones his footsteps he bends ;

Naught wll he find but the snow and the ruins,

Ashes of love and the tomb of his friends,

Pilgrim, begone ! Nor return more hereafter,

Stranger thou art in the land of thy birth ;

Others may sing of their love while rejoicing,

Thou once again must roam o'er the earth.

Pilgrim, begone ! Nor return more hereafter,

Dry are the tears that a while for thee ran ;

Pilgrim, begone ! And forget thine affliction,

Loud laughs the world at the sorrows of man.


18/29



MY LAST FAREWELL

NOTE: The most famous of the poems of Rizal, is his last one, a masterpiece, written on the eve of his

execution. Originally, the poem was without a title and was not signed, but the title of the poem El

Ultimo Adios (My last Farewell) was given by fatherMariano Dacanay, a Filipino priest-patriot and

under such title, it was published for the first time inLa Independencia, a newspaper of General Antonio

Luna on September 25,1898, almost one year and a half after Rizals executions.

To some people, the poem in Spanish is more touching than the different translation in English. Currently

there are 28 translations of the poem, but made by Charles E. Darbyshire is considered more approximate

to the original.

Farewell, dear Fatherland, clime of the sun

caress'd

Pearl of the Orient seas, our Eden lost!,

Gladly now I go to give thee this faded life's

best,

And were it brighter, fresher, or more blest

Still would I give it thee, nor count the cost.

On the field of battle, 'mid the frenzy of fight,

Others have given their lives, without doubt or

heed;

The place matters not-cypress or laurel or lilywhite,

Scaffold or open plain, combat or martyrdom's

plight,

T is ever the same, to serve our home and

country's need.

I die just when I see the dawn break,

Through the gloom of night, to herald the day;

And if color is lacking my blood thou shalt take,

Pour'd out at need for thy dear sake

To dye with its crimson the waking ray.

My dreams, when life first opened to me,

My dreams, when the hopes of youth beat high,

Were to see thy lov'd face, O gem of the Orient

sea

From gloom and grief, from care and sorrow

free;

No blush on thy brow, no tear in thine eye.

Dream of my life, my living and burning desire,

All hail ! cries the soul that is now to take flight;

All hail ! And sweet it is for thee to expire ;

To die for thy sake, that thou mayst aspire;

And sleep in thy bosom eternity's long night.

If over my grave some day thou seest grow,

In the grassy sod, a humble flower,

Draw it to thy lips and kiss my soul so,

While I may feel on my brow in the cold tomb

below

The touch of thy tenderness, thy breath's warm

power.

Let the moon beam over me soft and serene,

Let the dawn shed over me its radiant flashes,

Let the wind with sad lament over me keen ;

And if on my cross a bird should be seen,

Let it trill there its hymn of peace to my ashes.

Let the sun draw the vapors up to the sky,


19/29



And heavenward in purity bear my tardy protest

Let some kind soul o 'er my untimely fate sigh,

And in the still evening a prayer be lifted on

high

From thee, 0 my country, that in God I may rest.

Pray for all those that hapless have died,

For all who have suffered the unmeasur'd pain;

For our mothers that bitterly their woes have

cried,

For widows and orphans, for captives by torture

tried

And then for thyself that redemption thou maystgain.

And when the dark night wraps the graveyard

around

With only the dead in their vigil to see

Break not my repose or the mystery profound

And perchance thou mayst hear a sad hymn

resound

'T is I, O my country, raising a song unto thee.

And even my grave is remembered no more

Unmark'd by never a cross nor a stone

Let the plow sweep through it, the spade turn it

o'er

That my ashes may carpet earthly floor,

Before into nothingness at last they are blown.

Then will oblivion bring to me no care

As over thy vales and plains I sweep;Throbbing and cleansed in thy space and air

With color and light, with song and lament I

fare,

Ever repeating the faith that I keep.

My Fatherland ador'd, that sadness to my

sorrow lends

Beloved Filipinas, hear now my last good-by!

I give thee all: parents and kindred and friends

For I go where no slave before the oppressor

bends,

Where faith can never kill, and God reigns e'er

on high!

Farewell to you all, from my soul torn away,

Friends of my childhood in the home

dispossessed !

Give thanks that I rest from the wearisome day !

Farewell to thee, too, sweet friend that lightened

my way;

Beloved creatures all, farewell! In death there is

rest !


20/29



THEY ASK ME FOR VERSES

NOTE: Jose Rizal romantically reminisces about his country, the Philippines, and acknowledges that

these fond memories were his source of inspiration during his youth. He also mentions his sorrow upon

leaving his native land. The publisher was very much impressed by the article and asked Rizal to write for

more. Inspired by the encouragement given by the publisher, he wrote a second article, entitled Los

Viajes (Travels) and later Revista de Madrid (Review of Madrid), the latter which was returned for thenewspaper had ceased publication for financial reasons. It was two years later in Madrid, Spain that Rizal

renewed his writing activity. He joined the Circulo Hispano Filipino (Hispano-Philippines Circle) and

was requested to write a poem which hepersonally declaimed during the New Years Eve reception heldon December 31, 1882. The title of the sad poem was: They Ask Me for Verses, which is furnishedbelow:

They bid me strike the lyre

so long now mute and broken,

but not a note can I waken

nor will my muse inspire!

She stammers coldly and babbleswhen tortured by my mind;

she lies when she laughs and thrills

as she lies in her lamentation,

for in my sad isolation

my soul nor frolics nor feels.

There was a time, 'tis true,

but now that time has vanished

when indulgent love or friendship

called me a poet too.

Now of that time there lingers

hardly a memory,

as from a celebration

some mysterious refrain

that haunts the ears will remain

of the orchestra's actuation.

A scarce-grown plant I seem,

uprooted from the Orient,

where perfume is the atmosphere

and where life is a dream.O land that is never forgotten!

And these have taught me to sing:

the birds with their melody,

the cataracts with their force

and, on the swollen shores,

the murmuring of the sea.

While in my childhood days

I could smile upon her sunshine,

I felt in my bosom, seething,

a fierce volcano ablaze.

A poet was I, for I wantedwith my verses, with my breath,

to say to the swift wind: "Fly

and propagate her renown!

Praise her from zone to zone,

from the earth up to the sky!"

I left her! My native hearth,

a tree despoiled and shriveled,

no longer repeats the echo

of my old songs of mirth.

I sailed across the vast ocean,

craving to change my fate,

not noting, in my madness,

that, instead of the weal I sought,

the sea around me wrought

the spectre of death and sadness.

The dreams of younger hours,

love, enthusiasm, desire,

have been left there under the skies

of that fair land of flowers.Oh, do not ask of my heart

that languishes, songs of love!

For, as without peace I tread

this desert of no surprises,

I feel that my soul agonizes

and that my spirit is dead.
http://en.wikipilipinas.org/index.php?title=Jose_Rizalhttp://en.wikipilipinas.org/index.php?title=Philippineshttp://en.wikipilipinas.org/index.php?title=Philippineshttp://en.wikipilipinas.org/index.php?title=Jose_Rizal


21/29



TO THE 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?

FLOWER AMONG FLOWERS

NOTE:In this poem, Jose Rizal alludes to a flower that has supposedly given the speaker joy. A fragment

of an unfinished madrigal, just a rough draft, but it reveals Rizal's poetic inspiration.

Flower among flowers,

soft bud swooning,

that the wind moves

to a gentle crooning.

Wind of heaven,

wind of love,

you who gladden

all you espy;

you who smile

and will not sigh,

candour and fragrance

from above;

you who perhaps

came down to earth

to bring the lonely

solace and mirth,

and to be a joy

for the heart to capture.

They say that into

your dawn you bear

the immaculate soul

a prisoner

-- 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.

They say you brighten

the soul that mourns

when dark clouds gather,

and that without thorns

blossom the roses

in your clime.

If then, like a fairy,

you enhance

the joy of those

on whom you glance

with the magic charm

God gave to you;

oh, spare me an hour

of your cheer,

a single day

of your career,

that the breast may savor

the bliss it knew!
http://en.wikipilipinas.org/index.php?title=Jose_Rizalhttp://en.wikipilipinas.org/index.php?title=Jose_Rizal


22/29



MY RETREAT

NOTE: As a gift to his mother on her birthday he wrote the other of his poems of maturity, "Mi Retiro,"

with a description of a calm night overlaid with a million stars. The poem, with its concept of a

spontaneous creation and speaking of God as Plus Supra, is considered his accommodation of evolution.

Beside a spacious beach of fine and delicate sandand at the foot of a mountain greener than a leaf,

I planted my humble hut beneath a pleasant

orchard,

seeking in the still serenity of the woods

repose to my intellect and silence to my grief.

Its roof is fragile nipa; its floor is brittle bamboo;

its beams and posts are rough as rough-hewn wood

can be;

of no worth, it is certain, is my rustic cabin;

but on the lap of the eternal mount it slumbers

and night and day is lulled by the crooning of thesea.

The overflowing brook, that from the shadowy

jungle

descends between huge bowlders, washes it with its

spray,

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.

If the sky is serene, meekly flows the spring,strumming on its invisible zither unceasingly;

but come the time of the rains, and an impetuous

torrent

spills over rocks and chasmshoarse, foaming andaboilto hurl itself with a frenzied roaring toward the sea.

The barking of the dog, the twittering of the birds,

the hoarse voice of the kalaw are all that I hear;

there is no boastful man, no nuisance of a neighbor

to impose himself on my mind or to disturb my

passage;only the forests and the sea do I have near.

The sea, the sea is everything! Its sovereign mass

brings to me atoms of a myriad faraway lands;

its bright smile animates me in the limpid

mornings;

and when at the end of day my faith has proven

futile,

my heart echoes the sound of its sorrow on thesands.

At night it is a mystery! Its diaphanous elementis carpeted with thousands and thousands of lights

that climb;

the wandering breeze is cool, the firmament is

brilliant,

the waves narrate with many a sigh to the mild

wind

histories that were lost in the dark night of time.

Tis said they tell of the first morning on the earth,of the first kiss with which the sun inflamed her

breast,

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.

But when the winds rage in the darkness of the

night

and the unquiet waves commence their agony,

across the air move cries that terrify the spirit,a chorus of voices praying, a lamentation that

seems

to come from those who, long ago, drowned in the

sea.

Then do the mountain ranges on high reverberate;

the trees stir far and wide, by a fit of trembling

seized;

the cattle moan; the dark depths of the forest

resound;

their spirits say that they are on their way to the

plain,summoned by the dead to a mortuary feast.

The wild night hisses, hisses, confused and

terrifying;

one sees the sea afire with flames of green and

blue;

but calm is re-established with the approach of

dawning


23/29



and forthwith an intrepid little fishing vessel

begins to navigate the weary waves anew.

So pass the days of my life in my obscure retreat;

cast out of the world where once I dwelt: such is my

rare

good fortune; and Providence be praised for mycondition:

a disregarded pebble that craves nothing but moss

to hide from all the treasure that in myself I bear.

I live with the remembrance of those that I have

loved

and hear their names still spoken, who haunt my

memory;

some already are dead, others have long

forgottenbut what does it matter? I live remembering the

pastand no one can ever take the past away from me.

It is my faithful friend that never turns against me,

that cheers my spirit when my spirits a lonesomewraith,

that in my sleepless nights keeps watch with me and

prays

with me, and shares with me my exile and my cabin,

and, when all doubt, alone infuses me with faith.

Faith do I have, and I believe the day will shine

when the Idea shall defeat brute force as well;and after the struggle and the lingering agony

a voice more eloquent and happier than my own

will then know how to utter victorys canticle.

I see the heavens shining, as flawless and refulgent

as in the days that saw my first illusions start;

I feel the same breeze kissing my autumnal brow,

the same that once enkindled my fervent enthusiasm

and turned the blood ebullient within my youthful

heart.

Across the fields and rivers of my native townperhaps has travelled the breeze that now I breathe

by chance;

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.

On seeing the same moon, as silvery as before,

I feel within me the ancient melancholy revive;

a thousand memories of love and vows awaken:

a patio, an azotea, a beach, a leafy bower;

silences and sighs, and blushes of delight

A butterfly athirst for radiances and colors,dreaming of other skies and of a larger strife,

I left, scarcely a youth, my land and my affections,

and vagrant eveywhere, with no qualms, with no

terrors,

squandered in foreign lands the April of my life.

And afterwards, when I desired, a weary swallow,

to go back to the nest of those for whom I care,

suddenly fiercely roared a violent hurricane

and I found my wings broken, my dwelling place

demolished,

faith now sold to others, and ruins everywhere.

Hurled upon a rock of the country I adore;

the future ruined; no home, no health to bring me

cheer;

you come to me anew, dreams of rose and gold,

of my entire existence the solitary treasure,

convictions of a youth that was healthy and sincere.

No more are you, like once, full of fire and life,

offering a thousand crowns to immortality;

somewhat serious I find you; and yet your face

beloved,if now no longer as merry, if now no longer as

vivid,

now bear the superscription of fidelity.

You offer me, O illusions, the cup of consolation;

you come to reawaken the years of youthful mirth;

hurricane, I thank you; winds of heaven, I thank

you

that in good hour suspended by uncertain flight

to bring me down to the bosom of my native earth.

Beside a spacious beach of fine and delicate sandand at the foot of a mountain greener than a leaf,

I found in my land a refuge under a pleasant

orchard,

and in its shadowy forests, serene tranquility,

repose to my intellect and silence to my grief.


24/29



BY TELEPHONE

NOTE:In this article Rizal writes as if from the future and, with satire and irony, condemns the rule

of the friars in his day. Rizal sent his manuscript to Mariano Ponce and, under his direction, it was

published in Barcelona in 1889. F. Salvador Font, who censored Rizal's Noli Me Tngere,

occasioned this ridicule.

In the year 1900 the Philippines was for the first time connected with the Motherland by means

of a Telephone Line by an English-Catalonian firm called The Trans-Oceanic Telephone Company, well

known in its time for its truly enterprising spirit.

Thanks to the perfection of the instruments, there could be heard in Madrid the mystical sighs of

the friars here as they prayed with great piety before the sacred images, likewise their humble talk, their

words of conformity and resignation, and even their thanksgiving for the alms of rice and fish which the

people gave out of compassion for their fasting and abstinence. Such was the perfection of the telephone

that even the silence which prevailed in the refectories could be transmitted, and from the noise of

mastication, it could be definitely known that the most gluttonous of the friars did not eat over fivemouthfuls a day.

How poor and virtuous these priests are! exclaimed he affected democrats in Madrid.

How poor and virtuous these priests are! repeated the telephone in the Philippines, and this

was circulated everywhere, in the convents, churches, and so forth.

Upon learning this, the friars reduced further the quantity of their morels fearing that there might

be a hungry native. They taught the youth how to read and write and forcibly also instructed them in the

Spanish language, not seldom suffering insults and fist-blows from the parents of the youths for daring to

open their eyes.

God be praised! the friars would answer, turning the other cheek saying: All for the sake of

God and Mother Spain!

Thus they continued to teach just as soon as the despotic native had gone away, if the

Government, impelled by the parents, would not institute action against them for teaching an offense

constituting a great crime by endangering the integrity of the country.

By request of the natives, the Overseas Minister, the Procurator of the Augustinian friars one

day telephoned from Madrid to Manila, is offering our Order an hacienda in order that the friars might

not die of hunger but live with a certain comfort. What shall I answer him?

The telephone transmitted the offer to the Augustinian convent.

O Jesus, my Jesus! Holy God, might Saint, immortal Saint! May God protect us from all

temptation exclaimed all the friars, and on hearing this news, they dropped on their knees and covered

their ears.


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Lord, Lord! cried the Provincial beating his breast soundly, and not as one who would only

deceive the faithful to get money from them.

I have ruined the little soul of Salvadorcito by sending him to Madrid as the Procurator! He

was so good, so humble, so simple, so ingenuous, so silent, so chaste, and so frank when he was here!

Now he is ruined! Imagine giving such proposals, such sinful ones! Alas! Alas!Domine quaredeleriquiste eum? Oh, Lord, why didst thou forsake him?

All the inmates of St. Augustine groaned, and all the friars were beating their breasts and

scourging one another to do penance and to bring the soul of little Salvadorcito Tont to the right path.

All this consternation in the convent of St. Augustine was heard in Madrid by telephone, and

Salvadorcito Tont exclaimed with the simple air of a good boy:

I wonder if they have imprisoned all my brothers for failing to read all the pamphlets which the

natives published against them, insulting them with ecclesiastical approval! After all, this has been

rightly done. Who commands to answer and counter?

If they insult us in the booklets we, as imitators and ministers of Christ, should be compelled to

read them all, especially if there are indulgences, and they should prohibit us from answering them and

defending ourselves. That is why we have vows of haughtiness. . . . I am going immediately to see the

Minister and ask him to flog any priest of my religion who through pride, will not say Amen to

everything and regard the truth; he will thus see that, although a simpleton, I do not lack love of Justice. .

.

Then he looked for his shoes with holes in the soles because what he had on had no soles. The

good Augustinian had to go on foot to the Ministry, as he does not even have carfare, notwithstanding hisvow of wealth!

Salvadorcito, Salvadorcito! called the telephone.

Salvadorcito recognized the voice of the Provincial and began to tremble, as he was very

obedient.

At your orders, Father! he answered and he knelt down by the telephone in order to be in a

more respectful position, although this was forbidden by his vow of haughtiness.

How did you permit yourself to be tempted by the enemy of evil into accepti ng for a momenthe offer to give us a hacienda? My son, did you not perceive that this was only a trap laid by the enemy

inspired, no doubt, by that damned soul, Rizal, so that we may thus become rich, haughty, powerful, and

licentious because that wretch from Calamba desires nothing better than that we practice our vows of

wealth, haughtiness, and licentiousness which the sacrilegious founders have imposed upon us all? Don

you dare again listen to such offers. Here we not only work and construct our churches with our hands

we not only sow and help the poor, but what little they give us, we, in turn, hand over to the rich and

proud in order that they may tyrannize us more so that their greed may be increased and they may exploit


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and ruin us the more, put us in prison, exile us, and so forth. . . Thus we spread the law of Christ

everywhere in the islands were we are exiled; then there will be more imitators. . . There is not one

faithless Igorot left, not even a single non-Christian in the mountains; all have been baptized and they all

exploit us as good Christians. What you should propose to the Minister in order that our doctrine may

triumph, is that he emulate the Roman praetors [= a Roman magistrate rly] and send us cruel and

bloodthirsty governors to violate the laws and persecute us. Thus will the dormant one awaken, thelukewarm be strengthened, and the attention of the indifferent who are now so manybe aroused. .

Remember that in order to make a cause triumph, it is necessary that it be persecuted. Let them go ahead

and persecute us! Thus will the dormant one awaken, the lukewarm be strengthened and the attention of

the indifferentwho are now so manybe aroused. . . Remember that in order to make a cause triumph,

it is necessary that it be persecuted. Let them go ahead and persecute us! In the meantime, I impose as a

penance upon you, who are neither vain nor insincere, to have your picture taken in several positions, but

always in the attitude of meditating, or as if writing a sermon, with pen in hand, and beside a lamp,

wearing eyeglasses, even though you dont need them; do you understand? You will exhibit these

photographs in public so that everyone will say, even if it is not believed, What a thinker he is; what a

great orator Salvadorcito Tont must be! He is always writing sermons and has to time even to have his

picture taken! This will make you miserable, because even if you have the vows of wealth, haughtiness

and licentiousness, you pay no attention to them. . . Dont forget to have your picture taken in a pensive

mood and as a comedian! God be with you!

Thy will be done! sighed Salvadorcito resignedly, and his whole house resounded with

laments.

Salvadorcito was so humble that he was tortured by the idea of appearing in public, even if only

in a photograph, and that is why, whenever he had to preach, he assumed a hollow and cavernous voice to

make his hearers afraid and see if they would leave him alone.

Salvadorcito, Salvadorcito! again shouted the telephone.

At your orders, the good procurator answered, and this time he fell on his hands and knees so

that he could listen more reverently to his Provincial.

Request the Minister not to make Fr. Rodriguez a bishop. Tell him that he is very busy

researching and looking for words deriving from Calamba, such as Calamban, Calambanian, Calamian

Calam, etc. Imagine what a task this is fro him! He is sweating to beat the band! He has no time to be a

bishop, although he would make a good one, because he is condemned by our Father, St. Augustine, to be

stupid all his life. For Gods sake, dont let them make him a bishop!

It is not the Minister who wants to make him a Bishop, but the Dominicans who wish to avoid

the office, owing to the spirit of haughtiness! answered Salvadorcito.

Then tell the Minister that there is nobody like the Dominicans for bishops. I know one here

who is so friendly to the natives and an enemy of our faith that he does not let the Chinese take part in

ceremonies, although he knows very well that as soon as they leave the country they give up Christianity.


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They take to Christianity for convenience. Among Chinese, the worst Christians they are the better

persons they become. The Dominicans know this and even if the Chinese offer to give them money, they

would not accept it. No, sir! They manage to prevent the natives from quarreling with the mestizos and

the latter from quarreling with the Chinese, all against the express mandate of Jesus Christ to divide in

order to rule. For this disobedience, they ought to be made bishops. They should be made to carry

miters on their heads as symbol of pride, like the Assyrian and Persian priests who wore such ornaments.These people follow Machiavelli, that accursed Machiavelli, who said that peace and harmony should be

preached.

Talking about harmony, do you know, Salvadorcito, that Father Baldomero and another one

went to visit the college bearing the same name, which is a school for girls, if you dont remember well. .

. Of course, they did not visit the dormitories while the girls were dressing and changing their clothes,

neither did they talk with the prettiest girls, and the few words they exchanged with them were not said in

the dark nor behind doors far from other people. . . Oh, but what misery they suffered! They who were so

chaste, so virtuous and so pure-minded! The Sisters were so aloof, so unaccommodating and so

intolerant! All the time they were there they talked only of Godalways assuming a penitent and solemn

mood!

Alas, alas!

Why, whats the matter, Salvadorcito?

Please take me away from the Office of Procurator, because here I am suffering what

Baldomero and the other fellow must have suffered in the girls College. What a lot of beautiful girls and

women. . . Oh, my! I wish to go back to Manila! Madrid is doomed!

Here the natives will imprison and exile you without trial! For simply writing a secret reporthey will. . .

Never mind!

You will die of hunger and will not ride a coach!

I travel on foot here.

I warn you that you will have to salute the natives, otherwise they will file an administrative

case against you, and exile you.

I dontcare! I prefer all that to living among beautiful. . . women.

Remember that if you do not accommodate the gobernadorcillo, he will accuse you of being

anti-Spanish. . ..

I will protest and say that I love Spain.


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They wont believe you, because the natives are very rich and they publish pamphlets against

the friars with permission of the authorities.

Then what shall I do? Oh, what shall I do?

Remain there as Procurator.

Oh, my!

Present Chinese and Japanese gifts to the Ministers, the Delegates , and the Senators in order to

promote our ends.

Yes, thats it, the Chinese! And what else?

Wait until they make you a Bishop.

Oh, my!

And later, a Cardinal!

Alas

But in the meanwhile, you must have the government award crosses, estates, and offices to our

enemies.

And suppose they will engineer a revolt and claim that it is we who are behind it because we

are bistirufels?

Silence.

What shall I say about bistriufelism?

Silence.

Bistirufelism did you say? answered a voice at last. You tell the Minister that it does no

exist, but if he wants it to exist, just let him think about it and it will. Tell him that we have already

suffered too much, that we suffer now and will suffer more. However, as nothing is eternal in this life, our

sufferings will some day come to an end, that day when we are convinced that the Government is with ourenemies.


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RIZAL'S FAMOUS QUOTATIONS

"Ang hindi magmahal sa sariling wika, daig pa ang hayop at malansang isda."

"He who does not love his own language is worse than an animal and smelly fish."

"It is a useless life that is not consecrated to a great ideal. It is like a stone wasted on the field

without becoming a part of any edifice."

"While a people preserves its language; it preserves the marks of liberty."

"There can be no tyrants where there are no slaves."

"Ang hindi marunong lumingon sa pinangalingan ay hindi makakarating sa paroroonan."

"He who does not know how to look back at where he came from will never get to his

destination."

"The youth is the hope of our future."

Rizals Writings

Documents

Transcript of Rizals Writings