Sunday, January 30, 2011

Mi Ultimo Adios

Mi Ultimo Adios

Farewell, my adored Land, region of the sun caressed, 
Pearl of the Orient Sea, our Eden lost, 
With gladness I give you my Life, sad and repressed; 
And were it more brilliant, more fresh and at its best, 
I would still give it to you for your welfare at most. 

On the fields of battle, in the fury of fight, 
Others give you their lives without pain or hesitancy, 
The place does not matter: cypress laurel, lily white, 
Scaffold, open field, conflict or martyrdom's site, 
It is the same if asked by home and Country. 

I die as I see tints on the sky b'gin to show
And at last announce the day, after a gloomy night; 
If you need a hue to dye your matutinal glow, 
Pour my blood and at the right moment spread it so, 
And gild it with a reflection of your nascent light! 

My dreams, when scarcely a lad adolescent, 
My dreams when already a youth, full of vigor to attain, 
Were to see you, gem of the sea of the Orient, 
Your dark eyes dry, smooth brow held to a high plane
Without frown, without wrinkles and of shame without stain. 

My life's fancy, my ardent, passionate desire, 
Hail! Cries out the soul to you, that will soon part from thee; 
Hail! How sweet 'tis to fall that fullness you may acquire; 
To die to give you life, 'neath your skies to expire, 
And in your mystic land to sleep through eternity ! 

If over my tomb some day, you would see blow, 
A simple humble flow'r amidst thick grasses, 
Bring it up to your lips and kiss my soul so, 
And under the cold tomb, I may feel on my brow, 
Warmth of your breath, a whiff of your tenderness. 

Let the 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 should a bird descend on my cross and alight, 
Let the bird intone a song of peace o'er my site. 

Let the burning sun the raindrops vaporize
And with my clamor behind return pure to the sky; 
Let a friend shed tears over my early demise; 
And on quiet afternoons when one prays for me on high, 
Pray too, oh, my Motherland, that in God may rest I. 

Pray thee for all the hapless who have died, 
For all those who unequalled torments have undergone; 
For our poor mothers who in bitterness have cried; 
For orphans, widows and captives to tortures were shied, 
And pray too that you may see you own redemption. 

And when the dark night wraps the cemet'ry
And only the dead to vigil there are left alone, 
Don't disturb their repose, don't disturb the mystery: 
If you hear the sounds of cithern or psaltery, 
It is I, dear Country, who, a song t'you intone. 

And when my grave by all is no more remembered, 
With neither cross nor stone to mark its place, 
Let it be plowed by man, with spade let it be scattered
And my ashes ere to nothingness are restored, 
Let them turn to dust to cover your earthly space. 

Then it doesn't matter that you should forget me: 
Your atmosphere, your skies, your vales I'll sweep; 
Vibrant and clear note to your ears I shall be: 
Aroma, light, hues, murmur, song, moanings deep, 
Constantly repeating the essence of the faith I keep. 

My idolized Country, for whom I most gravely pine, 
Dear Philippines, to my last goodbye, oh, harken
There I 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 God alone does reign. 

Farewell, parents, brothers, beloved by me, 
Friends of my childhood, in the home distressed; 
Give thanks that now I rest from the wearisome day; 
Farewell, sweet stranger, my friend, who brightened my way; 
Farewell, to all I love. To die is to rest. 


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Katapusang Hibik ng Pilipinas

                                                                          
                                                                       
                                                    Katapusang Hibik Ng Pilipinas
Andres Bonifacio


Sumikat na Ina sa sinisilangan
ang araw ng poot ng Katagalugan,
tatlong daang taong aming iningatan
sa dagat ng dusa ng karalitaan.

Walang isinuhay kaming iyong anak
sa bagyong masasal ng dalita't hirap;
iisa ang puso nitong Pilipinas
at ikaw ay di na Ina naming lahat.

Sa kapuwa Ina'y wala kang kaparis...
ang layaw ng anak: dalita't pasakit;
pag nagpatirapang sa iyo'y humibik,
lunas na gamot mo ay kasakit-sakit.

Gapusing mahigpit ang mga Tagalog,
hinain sa sikad, kulata at suntok,
makinahi't biting parang isang hayop;
ito baga, Ina, ang iyong pag-irog?

Ipabilanggo mo't sa dagat itapon;
barilin, lasunin, nang kami'y malipol.
Sa aming Tagalog, ito baga'y hatol
Inang mahabagin, sa lahat ng kampon?

Aming tinitiis hanggang sa mamatay;
bangkay nang mistula'y ayaw pang tigilan,
kaya kung ihulog sa mga libingan,
linsad na ang buto't lumuray ang laman.

Wala nang namamana itong Pilipinas
na layaw sa Ina kundi pawang hirap;
tiis ay pasulong, patente'y nagkalat,
rekargo't impuwesto'y nagsala-salabat.

Sarisaring silo sa ami'y inisip,
kasabay ng utos na tuparing pilit,
may sa alumbrado---kaya kaming tikis,
kahit isang ilaw ay walang masilip.

Ang lupa at buhay na tinatahanan,
bukid at tubigang kalawak-lawakan,
at gayon din pati ng mga halaman,
sa paring Kastila ay binubuwisan.

Bukod pa sa rito'y ang mga iba pa,
huwag nang saysayin, O Inang Espanya,
sunod kaming lahat hanggang may hininga,
Tagalog di'y siyang minamasama pa.

Ikaw nga, O Inang pabaya't sukaban,
kami'y di na iyo saan man humanggan,
ihanda mo, Ina, ang paglilibingan
sa mawawakawak na maraming bangkay.

Sa sangmaliwanag ngayon ay sasabog
ang barila't kanyong katulad ay kulog,
ang sigwang masasal sa dugong aagos
ng kanilang bala na magpapamook.

Di na kailangan sa iyo ng awa
ng mga Tagalog, O Inang kuhila,
paraiso namin ang kami'y mapuksa,
langit mo naman ang kami'y madusta. 



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May Bagyo Ma't may Rilim


May Bagyo Ma't Rilim


May bagyo ma't, may rilim
Ang ola'y, titiguisin,
Aco'y, magpipilit din:
Acquing paglalacbayin
Toloyin cong hanapin
Dios na ama namin.

Cun di man magupiling
Tocsong mabaomabaoin,
Aco'y, mangangahas din:
Itong libro'y, basahin,
At dito co hahangoin
Acquing sasandatahin.

Cun dati mang nabulag
Aco'y, pasasalamat,
Na ito ang liunag
Dios ang nagpahayag
Sa Padreng bagsiulat
Nitong mabuting sulat.

Naguiua ma't, nabagbag
Daloyong matataas,
Aco'y magsusumicad
Babagohin ang lacas;
Dito rin hahaguilap
Timbulang icaligtas.

Cun lompo ma't, cun pilay
Anong di icahacbang
Naito ang aacay
Magtuturo nang daan:
Toncod ay inilaan
Sucat pagcatibayan.