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Copy of Copy of Rizal

Chapter 7
by

Igieh Bacusmo

on 25 July 2013

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Transcript of Copy of Copy of Rizal

Introduction
Rizal bared his heart in his poetry more than he did in his other writings. In many of them, he rose to great heights in patriotic ecstasy. Each was directed at vindicating his people by showing, through his own abilities, that the indios had the same intellectual and artistic capacities as the Spaniards.

As young as an eight year old, Rizal already showed precocity in writing his poems. He became known for his serious outlook in life, that was rather unusual for boys of his age. after he wrote "Sa Aking Mga Kabata" (To My Fellow Children). His mother served as his mentor when he was writing his poems. She would read poetry to him, urged him to write, corrected his verses, and made worthwhile suggestions.

Rizal's poetic maturity emerged as he expounded on nationalism not only as a sentiment, but as passion, a virtue that could be acquired and developed into a ideology that rationalized and synthesized his personal ideas and dreams. He also wrote poems with different themes, such historical and religious topics.
Poetry Facts
Rizal showed his appreciation for his mother's influence for him when he composed "Mi Primera Inspiracion" for her birthday.
Rizal was a tomasino when he put out his first-prize winning poem, "Ala Juventud Filipina".
In the beautiful East
Where rises the sun,
A Beautiful land
So full of Charms
With fetters o'erwhelms.
Alas! It's my land,
The country I love.
How sad is life
Far from her embrace!
Beyond her fields
Light or love there's naught!
The sun does not shine,
The sky is dark,
How sad if I die
Without seeing her sheen!
In the beautiful East
There rises the sun,
The land I adore
So full of charms,
In chains does moan!
'Tis dying like a slave;
Blessed be the one
Who can set her free!
"Kundiman" was included among the "documentary evidences" presented by Fiscal Don Alcocer at Rizal's trial.
Here are some of the verses.
Rizal was less grim in his poetic description of the actual plight of the Filipinos than he was in his essays and novels. Sometimes, though, he got carried away by his ardor and came out with direct indictments
Hymn to Talisay
Of, Dapitan, the sandy shore,
Rocks on the mountain's lofty peak
Are your throne, oh sacred retreat!
There my childhood days I pass.
On your vale adorned by flow'rs
'Neath the fruit trees with shady bowr's
There our mind is forced at last
'Long with our body and our soul.

Children are we, for late we're born,
But our soul with strength doth grow,
Strong men we'll be of tomorrow,
To protect our homes we'll know.
Naught can daunt us children:
Waves, nor storm, nor thunder;
With the ready arm and face serene
How to fight, we'll know, in danger.
Dapitan meant home and security, where the innate
abilities of youth began to emerge.
Our games overturn the sand;
Scour we the caves and crags;
Stand our homes on the rocks,
Reach our weapons anywhere.
There's no gloom, no jet-black night
Nor a tempest do we fear;
And if Lucifer would appear
He'll be caught dead or alive.

Talisaynon we are called,
Tiny beings with a big soul,
In Dapitan and district whole,
Can surpass Talisay, there's naught
Without equal is our tank,
Deep abyss in our jumping place,
In the world there's none can outpace
For a moment our own boat.
Problems of exact sciences,
Learn we our country's history,
Three of four languages speak we
Blending both faith and reason.
Handle our arms at a moment
Knife, the spade and the pen,
Pickaxe, sword and the gun,
All the strong man's companions.

Live, live, verdurous Talisay!
All our voices praise you high,
Priceless gem, a bright star in the sky
Infancy's doctrine and solace.
In the struggles that men expect,
To afflictions and mourning subject,
Thine mem'ry will be their amulet,
In the tomb your name, their peace.
It is not all play for the youth, for tomorrow brings serious thoughts and perilous challenges.
The youth prepare for this future by fully developing their physical and intellectual potential.
Rizal's
Poems and
Essays

His personal plight Rizal recorded most pathetically in one of his last poems. He composed this after being notified that he could go abroad once more in 1986. He called it "The Song of the Traveler"
He compared himself to
A dry leaf that hesitantly flies
And snatched by hurricanes away,
Thus lives on earth the traveler
Without aim, without soul,
without love nor country.

With the feeling that all his efforts had been useless, he expressed some sort of regret at the way his life had turned to be. He was much misunderstood by the people.
Happiness, everywhere he anxiously seeks
And from him that happiness flies away:
Empty shadow that mocks his eagerness!
For it rushes the traveller to the sea!

Perhaps on the desert a grave he'll find
Of tranquility a refuge sweet:
Unremembered by his country and the world
He'll rest in peace after a suffering great!

And they envy the hapless traveler
When across the earthy sphere he darts
Alas! They know that in his soul
There exists a space where love departs!
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 minds;
The honor’s glorious seat,
May their virgin mind fly and find
More rapidly than the wind.
“ A la Juventud Filipina”
Without Religion, human Education
Is like a ship buffeted by the wind
That loses her rudder in horrible combat
To the thundering impact and jolt
Of the terrible tempestuous North wind
That fiercely battles her
Until it haughtily sinks her
In the abyss of the angry sea.
“The Intimate Alliance Between Religion and Good Education”
Wise education, vital breath
Inspires an enchanting virtue;
She puts the Country in the lofty seat
Of endless glory, of dazzling glow,
And just as the gentle aura's puff
Do brighten the perfumed flower's hue:
So education with a wise, guiding hand,
A benefactress, exalts the human band.

Where wise education raises a throne
Sprightly youth are invigorated,
Who with firm stand error they subdue
And with noble ideas are exalted;
It breaks immortality's neck,
Contemptible crime before it is halted:
It humbles barbarous nations
And it makes of savages champions.
“Education Gives Luster to Motherland”
That goddess of garnered ages that sows
For flowers of virtue perennial seeds,
As upward dispensing her light she goes,
Handfast the fatherland, too, she leads.
The breath of her quickening summons she blows
Like winds that bear life to the blossomless meads,
And Wisdom along her pathway uprisings
And Hope is revived in new bourgeonings.

The lighthouse stands on the eternal rock
By the storm-harried seas oft beaten and battered;
The hurricane bellows, the mad waves shock-
On its surface walls they rise and are shattered,
Till ocean dives back his disorderly flock
By their futile assailings affrighted and scattered.
So with this goddess it is, whose light
Cannot dim through the stormiest night.
“ To Education” (A la Educacion)
MAIDENS :
Hail! Hail! Praise to labour,
Of the country wealth and vigor!
For it brow serene's exalted,
It's her blood, life, and ardor.
If some youth would show his love
Labor his faith will sustain :
Only a man who struggles and works
Will his offspring know to maintain.


CHILDREN:
Teach, us ye the laborious work
To pursue your footsteps we wish,
For tomorrow when country calls us
We may be able your task to finish.
And on seeing us the elders will say :
"Look, they're worthy 'f their sires of yore!"
Incense does not honor the dead
As does a son with glory and valor
For the Motherland in war,
For the Motherland in peace,
Will the Filipino keep watch,
He will live until life will cease!

MEN:
Now the East is glowing with light,
Go! To the field to till the land,
For the labour of man sustains
Fam'ly, home and Motherland.
Hard the land may turn to be,
Scorching the rays of the sun above...
For the country, wife and children
All will be easy to our love.

WIVES:
Go to work with spirits high,
For the wife keeps home faithfully,
Inculcates love in her children
For virtue, knowledge and country.
When the evening brings repose,
On returning joy awaits you,
And if fate is adverse, the wife,
Shall know the task to continue.
“Hymn to Labor”

Subjects of Rizal’s poetry
Education of the masses
Youth involvement in the affairs of the country

“ To Education”
“ The Intimate Alliance Between Religion and Good Education”
“ Education Gives Luster to the Motherland”

“ To the Philippine Youth”
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.
Pagkat ang salita’y isang kahatulan
Sa bayan, sa nayo’t mga kaharian,
At ang isang tao’y katulad, kabagay
Ng alin mga likha noong kalayaan.

Ang hindi magmahal sa kanyang salita
Mahigit sa hayop at malansang isda,
Kaya ang marapat pagyamaning kusa
Ng tulad sa isang tunay na nagpala.

EXPRESSIONS AND APPEALS ON
LOVE OF COUNTRY
“Sa Aking Mga Kababata” (To My Fellow Children)
Two Autobiographical Poems
"My Retreat"
My Last Farewell
Rizal's poetic masterpieces, according to several literacy critics, were "My Retreat", a poem about his life in exile in Dapitan, and his last poem which was subsequently given the title of "My Farewell" by those who published it after its author's death.
Said to be more intense compared to "My Retreat"
because the patriotism and selflessness most moving, perhaps because it was written in a prison cell towards the final hour of death. Composes of 70 lines. It was the last poem of Rizal, and it was originally untitled; found scribbled on a sheet ingeniously inserted by Rizal in the alcohol burner and given to Trinidad.
Rizal's life in Dapitan was a welcome respite, a
sanctuary from political activity and involvement. It was a retreat in a military sense, for Rizal did "go back" during those four years of exile-- to recall and evaluate the bulk and worth of all his earlier efforts at redeeming his people from their exploiters and from their ignorance and indolence.
In the spiritual sense, it was also a retreat, an examination of the past life in order to better face
and more fully live the future years.
In the first stanza, Rizal states the reasons for his choice of a house far from men and from the troubles they caused him, and expresses his love of nature.
Beside the wide expanse of fine and sandy shore
And at the foot of the green covered mountain
I built my hut in the grove's delightful core,
To seek in the woodlands tranquility serene,
Repose for my mind and from my griefs refrain
From this point, Rizal takes his enthralled reader to his plain hut, to the brook which provides a cool atmosphere all around and bids him look at the sky that controlled the serenity or turbulence of the brook as if flowed or roared foaming to the sea, and for Rizal, the sea meant more than just a body of water. It reflects the universe lit up at night.
The sea's everything! Its dominant domain
Brings to me the atoms of being far away;
Its smile, like a limpid morn, enlivens me,
And when in the afternoon my hope proves vain,
The Heart finds reflection in its melancholy.

Its lucid sphere
Is overspread with thousands of light,
A refreshing zephyr wanders, then heavens flare,
The waves in their sighs tell the soft blowing air
Of stories that were lost in the past's dark night.
It symbolized his immense sorrow. The sea collected raindrops that formed the brook and the spring, it was the repository of events that happened to him, as well as to everybody else, from the beginning of time. For the sea had been there all along. As a poet, Rizal "communicated" with the sea.

The sea would not let him forget the people and events of the earlier years.
I live with the mem'ries of those I have loved before,
And their names by others uttered now and then I hear:
But, what does it matter? I live with the thoughts of yore
And no one can wrest from me the yesteryear.
It is my faithful friend which hurts me ne'er
Which when it sees me and always consoles my soul,
Which in my sleepless night watches me with pray'r
With me, and in my exile dwells in my sylvan lair,
It alone infuses me with faith when I'm doubted by all
Even as he became sentimental, Rizal expressed optimism about the immediate future of the country: peace would come after all battles.
I have it, and one day I await, would shine
When o'er brutal force Idea would prevail,
That after the struggle and the ling'ring travail,
Another voice more son'rous, happier than mine
Shall know then how to sing the triumphant hymn
About his personal future, as dictated.
But he was not so hopeful by his unhappy experiences. After recollecting the awakening of his love of nature, his betrothral, his voyage to seek delights in the other lands, his decision to come home, to bring and end to "my brightest days spent" abroad, what awaited him in the motherland? His Writings were banned, his family's property confiscated. He was imprisoned without trial, prior to the exile in Dapitan. Even his country seemed to condole with his personal misfortunes.
And like a weary swallow. I wished later
To return to the nest of my love and my parent's home
Unexpectedly roared a windstorm so severe:
My wings were broken, in ruins was my dome,
Trust sold to others, destruction everywhere.

Cast upon a rock of my adored country,
Without a home, poor in health and doomed my future,
My golden, roseate dreams, come again to me,
Of my whole existence my only wealth and treasure,
The beliefs of a youth so vigorous and hearty.

You're not as you were before, full of fire and grace,
That toast a thousand crowns to immortality;
I find you somewhat serious; but your darling face,
If it's not so bright, if hues have faded away,
On the other hand, has the mark of fidelity.
Make the "blood of the young heart seethe with passion".

Rizal had to stress how lovely the nature was, because he could not portray the goodness in life, which was apparently absent to him. The poem concludes with the following lines.
Beside the wide expanse of fine and sandy shore
And at the foot of the green covered mountain
I found in my land an abode in the sylvan core,
And 'neath its shady woods, quietness serene,
Repose for my mind and from my griefs refrain.
Land that I love: farewell: O land the sun loves:
Pearl of the sea of the Orient: Eden lost to your brood!
Gaily go I to present you this hapless hopeless life;
Were it more brilliant: had it more freshness, more bloom:
Still for you would I give it: would give it for your good!
In barricades embattled, fighting in delirium,
Others give you their lives without doubts, without gloom.
The site nought matters: cypress, laurel or lily:
Gibbet or open field: combat or cruel martyrdom
Are equal if demanded by country and home.
I am to die when I see the heavens go vivid,
announcing the day at last behind the dead night.
If you need color – color to stain that dawn with,
Let spill my blood: scatter it in good hour:
And drench in its gold one beam of the newborn light.
My dream when a lad, when scarcely adolescent:
My dreams when a young man, now with vigor inflamed:
Were to behold you one day: Jewel of eastern waters:
Griefless the dusky eyes: lofty the upright brow:
Unclouded, unfurrowed, unblemished and unashamed!
Enchantment of my life: my ardent avid obsession:
To your health! Cries the soul, so soon to take the last leap:
To your health! O lovely: how lovely: to fall that you may rise!
To perish that you may live! To die beneath your skies!
And upon your enchanted ground the eternities to sleep!
Should you find some day somewhere on my gravemound, fluttering
Among tall grasses, a flower of simple fame:
Caress it with your lips and you kiss my soul:
I shall feel on my face across the cold tombstone:
Of your tenderness, the breath; of your breath, the flame.
Suffer the moon to keep watch, tranquil and suave, over me:
Suffer the dawn its flying lights to release:
Suffer the wind to lament in murmurous and grave manner:
And should a bird drift down and alight on my cross,
Suffer the bird to intone its canticle of peace.
Suffer the rains to dissolve in the fiery sunlight
And purified reascending heavenward bear my cause:
Suffer a friend to grieve I perished so soon:
And on fine evenings, when prays in my memory,
Pray also – O my land! – that in God I repose.
Pray for all who have fallen befriended by not fate:
For all who braved the bearing of torments all bearing past:
To our poor mothers piteously breathing in bitterness:
For widows and orphans: for those in tortured captivity
And yourself: pray to behold your redemption at last.
And when in dark night shrouded obscurely the graveyard lies
And only, only the dead keep vigil the night through:
Keep holy the place: keep holy the mystery.
Strains, perhaps, you will hear – of zither, or of psalter:
It is I – O land I love! – it is I, singing to you!
And when my grave is wholly unremembered
And unlocated (no cross upon it, no stone there plain):
Let the site be wracked by the plow and cracked by the spade
And let my ashes, before they vanish to nothing,
As dust be formed a part of your carpet again.
Nothing then will it matter to place me in oblivion!
Across your air, your space, your valleys shall pass my wraith!
A pure chord, strong and resonant, shall I be in your ears:
Fragrance, light and color: whispers, lyric and sigh:
Constantly repeating the essence of my faith!
Land that I idolized: prime sorrow among my sorrows:
Beloved Filipinas, hear me the farewell word:
I bequeath you everything – my family, my affections:
I go where no slaves are – nor butchers: nor oppressors:
Where faith cannot kill: where God’s the sovereign lord!
Farewell, my parents, my brothers – fragments of my soul:
Friends of old and playmates in childhood’s vanished house:
Offer thanks that I rest from the restless day!
Farewell, sweet foreigner – my darling, my delight!
Creatures I love, farewell! To die is to repose.
This poem offers a moving spectacle of a man who conquers himself. The face of death, "his noble and Christian soul raises neither complaints nor curses, nor even ardent protests of innocence; his heart does not distill gall or rancor; he did not want undoubtedly to profance his last moments with any passion, but he sanctified and saturated them with love, with love for his motherland, for his own people
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