Interpretation: Our Mother Tongue

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.

In this first stanza we note that Rizal considers a people's mother tongue as a gift from heaven. Growing up in the Catholic faith where language, according to the Bible, originated from the fall of the Tower of Babel, the poet must certainly have considered the Filipino language as a unique blessing to a unique people who, if they only realize the value of the treasure they hold in the tips of their tongues, would surely yearn for the freedom to build an identity for themselves, free from the influence of foreign lands.

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.

Here the poet explains why language is linked to the need for freedom, why language is more than just a group of words people use to communicate to each other. It is, according to Rizal, the standard by which outsiders judge a community, a culture, a civilization.

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.

In this third stanza we find the origin of Rizal's well-known proverb, "He who does not love his own language is worse than an animal and smelly fish. ("Ang hindi magmahal sa sariling wika, daig pa ang hayop at malansang isda.") He then further stresses that a nation's language is a treasure to be valued and 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.

It is only right for Filipinos to consider Tagalog not as a lower form of language; it is "akin to English, Spanish" and even to the language of angels. It can be supposed from this stanza, then, that the regard people have for their native tongue has a great influence on the regard they have for their own identity as a nation. Tagalog is a language given by God, as are Latin, English and Spanish. It is, therefore, not to be treated as one inferior to other tongues. Filipinos, likewise, ought not to feel inferior to other nations and should desire freedom for they, like everyone else, are capable of upholding their identity themselves.

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 in years bygone.

Letters unique only to the Filipino language could be traced back to Baybayin. The origins and disappearance of the use of this alphabet is a long chapter in history.

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Interpretation: To The Philippines

Aglowing and fair like a houri on high,
Full of grace and pure like the Morn that peeps
When in the sky the clouds are tinted blue,
Of th' Indian land, a goddess sleeps.

Rizal builds a description of his motherland using simile and metaphor. He likens her to an houri which, by definition, is one of the beautiful maidens that in Muslim belief live with the blessed in paradise (definition taken from Merriam-Webster). The second and third lines of this first stanza comprise one versified sentence, and when arranged in the more modern tongue, goes, "When the clouds are tinted blue in the sky, [she] peeps like the Morn, pure and full of grace." Here he also likens his country to a sleeping goddess of the Indian land. One might ask why the poet imagines his land to be in deep slumber; perhaps it is because he feels she has yet to be acquainted with greatness and with equal respect as is given to other lands.

The light foam of the son'rous sea
Doth kiss her feet with loving desire;
The cultured West adores her smile
And the frosty Pole her flow'red attire.

The Philippines as an archipelago is described in this stanza as being kissed by the light foam of the sea. The "feet" might well refer to her shores, of which she has a great multitude. Rizal manages to include the truth about the country being conquered by the West, by saying that it "adores her smile." And the rich flora and fauna of the land, the iced caps of the globe can only dream to match.

With tenderness, stammering, my Muse
To her 'midst undines and naiads does sing;
I offer her my fortune and bliss:
Oh, artists! her brow chaste ring
With myrtle green and roses red
And lilies, and extol the Philippines!

Here the poet takes a position of humility and stands in awe and adoration of his motherland. This is evident through his use of the words "tenderness" and "stammering." He calls upon undines and naiads - different types of water nymphs in mythology - as well as all of nature, represented by the three flowers: myrtle, roses and lilies, to "extol the Philippines."

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Interpretation: To the Child Jesus

Jose Rizal wrote the poem To the Child Jesus (in other references, Child Jesus) when he was 14 years old. A rather short poem only eight lines long, it follows the traditional Spanish pattern of poetry:

Why have you come to earth,
Child-God, in a poor manger?
Does Fortune find you a stranger
from the moment of your birth?

The poem begins with Rizal addressing the child Jesus and asking him why he had chosen a lowly manger as the place through which he would enter the world of humanity. He further enriches this question by asking whether Fortune - in this case it could mean wealth or power or prestige or all of the above - had decided to stay far away from the Lord the moment he decided to become a man.

Alas, of heavenly stock
now turned an earthly resident!
Do you not wish to be president
but the shepherd of your flock?

 "Alas" is a word expressing concern, grief, sorrow or pity and is commonly used in traditional poetry. When Rizal adds this expression to the second half of his poem, he signifies that he, Rizal, as a man and having the perspective of a mere human being, finds a part of himself that grieves over how much the divine has given up in the process of his incarnation. He then ends the poem with a rather rhetorical question: Wouldn't you rather be Lord above the earth than be a mere shepherd of simple sheep like the rest of us?

Early in a Filipino child's education, he is taught the basic truths and tenets of Christianity. It is highly probable that as a child, Rizal had already felt deeply for his country and hand great dreams for his motherland. It was easy for his young mind to connect the life and suffering of Jesus, God incarnate, to the present struggles of the nation against oppression, as Rizal believed in non-violence and clearly found a firm ally in the person of Christ.

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Sa Aking mga Kababata

Kapagka ang baya’y sadyang umiibig
Sa langit salitang kaloob ng langit
Sanlang kalayaan nasa ring masapi

Katulad ng ibong nasa himpapawid
Pagka’t ang salita’y isang kahatulan
Sa bayan, sa nayo't mga kaharian


At ang isang tao’y katulad, kabagay
Ng alin mang likha noong kalayaan.
Ang hindi magmahal sa kanyang salita
Mahigit sa hayop at malansang isda

Kaya ang marapat pagyamanin kusa
Na tulad sa inang tunay na nagpala
Ang wikang Tagalog tulad din sa Latin,


Sa Ingles, Kastila, at salitang anghel,
Sapagkat ang Poong maalam tumingin
Ang siyang naggagawad, nagbibigay sa atin.
Ang salita nati’y tulad din sa iba


Na may alfabeto at sariling letra,
Na kaya nawala’y dinatnan ng sigwa
Ang lunday sa lawa noong dakong una.

To The Virgin Mary

Mary, sweet peace, solace dear
Of pained mortal ! You're the fount
Whence emanates the stream of succor,
That without cease our soil fructifies.

From thy throne, from heaven high,
Kindly hear my sorrowful cry!
And may thy shining veil protect
My voice that rises with rapid flight.

Thou art my Mother, Mary, pure;
Thou'll be the fortress of my life;
Thou'll be my guide on this angry sea.
If ferociously vice pursues me,
If in my pains death harasses me,
Help me, and drive away my woes!

Education Gives Luster to Motherland

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.

Man's placid repose and earthly life
To education he dedicates
Because of her, art and science are born
Man; and as from the high mount above
The pure rivulet flows, undulates,
So education beyond measure
Gives the Country tranquility secure.

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.
And like the spring that nourishes
The plants, the bushes of the meads,
She goes on spilling her placid wealth,
And with kind eagerness she constantly feeds,
The river banks through which she slips,
And to beautiful nature all she concedes,
So whoever procures education wise
Until the height of honor may rise.

From her lips the waters crystalline
Gush forth without end, of divine virtue,
And prudent doctrines of her faith
The forces weak of evil subdue,
That break apart like the whitish waves
That lash upon the motionless shoreline:
And to climb the heavenly ways the people
Do learn with her noble example.

In the wretched human beings' breast
The living flame of good she lights
The hands of criminal fierce she ties,
And fill the faithful hearts with delights,
Which seeks her secrets beneficent
And in the love for the good her breast she incites,
And it's th' education noble and pure
Of human life the balsam sure.

And like a rock that rises with pride
In the middle of the turbulent waves
When hurricane and fierce Notus roar
She disregards their fury and raves,
That weary of the horror great
So frightened calmly off they stave;
Such is one by wise education steered
He holds the Country's reins unconquered.
His achievements on sapphires are engraved;
The Country pays him a thousand honors;
For in the noble breasts of her sons
Virtue transplanted luxuriant flow'rs;
And in the love of good e'er disposed
Will see the lords and governors
The noble people with loyal venture
Christian education always procure.

And like the golden sun of the morn
Whose rays resplendent shedding gold,
And like fair aurora of gold and red
She overspreads her colors bold;
Such true education proudly gives
The pleasure of virtue to young and old
And she enlightens out Motherland dear
As she offers endless glow and luster.

To Josephine

Josephine, Josephine
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.

To the Filipino Youth

Unfold, oh timid flower!

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.

A Poem That Has No Title

To my Creator I sing
Who did soothe me in my great loss;
To the Merciful and Kind
Who in my troubles gave me repose.

Thou with that pow'r of thine
Said: Live! And with life myself I found;
And shelter gave me thou
And a soul impelled to the good
Like a compass whose point to the North is bound.

Thou did make me descend
From honorable home and respectable stock,
And a homeland thou gavest me
Without limit, fair and rich
Though fortune and prudence it does lack.

Kundiman

Truly hushed today
Are my tongue and heart
Harm is discerned by love
And joy flies away,
'Cause the Country was
Vanquished and did yield
Through the negligence
Of the one who led.

But the sun will return to dawn;
In spite of everything
Subdued people
Will be liberated;
The Filipino name
Will return perhaps
And again become
In vogue in the world.

We shall shed
Blood and it shall flood
Only to emancipate
The native land;
While the designated time
Does not come,
Love will rest
And anxiety will sleep.

Hymn to Labor

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.

(Chorus)
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.

(Chorus)
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.
(Chorus)

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.

Memories of My Town

When I recall the days
That saw my childhood of yore
Beside the verdant shore
Of 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 faith
And 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!

Our Mother Tongue

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.

To The Philippines

Aglowing and fair like a houri on high,
Full of grace and pure like the Morn that peeps
When in the sky the clouds are tinted blue,
Of th' Indian land, a goddess sleeps.

The light foam of the son'rous sea
Doth kiss her feet with loving desire;
The cultured West adores her smile
And the frosty Pole her flow'red attire.

With tenderness, stammering, my Muse
To her 'midst undines and naiads does sing;
I offer her my fortune and bliss:
Oh, artists! her brow chaste ring
With myrtle green and roses red
And lilies, and extol the Philippines!

My Last Farewell (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 your 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 cittern 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.