Although Jos Rizal, now eleven years old, had passed a good entrance examination in Manila in June, 1872,

he nearly failed to matriculate in the Ateneo in July, because his mother's arrest had made him a month late, and because he looked so little, so slender, so young. He would not have been admitted at all but for the intercession of Dr. Manuel Burgos, a nephew of the recently executed Dr. Jos Burgos. When finally the boy was accepted, he went to mass and prayed fervently. (01) He had something to pray about and to study for! Tragedy had set purpose ablaze in his young soul -- purpose that would never die. He did not know how to help his home and country but he would find a way! Following the rigid methodical habits which he had learned from his father and which were taught by his Jesuit teachers, he prepared a schedule so that he would not lose an hour: study and reading until four p.m.; four to five, exercise; five to six social and miscellaneous obligations. This careful husbanding of every minute began to show results almost at once. He began at the bottom of the school, but within a month he was "Emperor of Rome". The Ateneo had divided the students into two "empires", Roman and Carthaginian, to fight for academic supremacy. It was this war that soon brought young Rizal triumph and prizes. At the end of the first quarter he received the grade "excellent". When one of the teachers hurt his feelings he stopped trying for honors, so that at the end of the year he came out second in the school and had no prizes. Though he still had the grade "excellent", he felt like a failure, and doubtless the disappointment of his father in Calamba added to his remorse. He never did less than his best again. The second year he was first and had won nearly all the prizes and medals there were to be had.

A drawing from Rizal's Scrapbook, "Columbus at Baracelona"

"Columbus and John II". "The Heroism of Columbus" (1877) In praise of famous conquerors he wrote: "The Battle of Urbiztondo, Terror of Jolo" (1874) "The Captivity and the Triumph: The Battle of Lucena and the Imprisonment of Boabdil" (1876) "The Triumphant Entrance of the Catholic Kings into Granada" (1876) "Abd-el-Azis and Mohammed" (1879)

THROUGH EDUCATION OUR MOTHERLAND RECEIVES LIGHT

The vital breath of prudent Education Instills a virtue of enchanting power; She lifts the motherland to highest station And endless dazzling glories on her shower. And as the zephyr's gentle exhalation Revives the matrix of the fragrant flower, So education multiplies her gifts of grace; With prudent hand imparts them to the human race. For her a mortal-man will gladly part With all he has; will give his calm repose; For her are born all science and all art, That brows of men with laurel fair enclose. As from the towering mountain's lofty heart The purest current of the streamlet flows, So education without stint or measure gives Security and peace to lands in which she lives. Where Education reigns on lofty seat Youth blossoms forth with vigor and agility; He error subjugates with solid feet, And is exalted by conceptions of nobility. She breaks the neck of vice and its deceit; Black crime turns pale at Her hostility; The barbarous nations She knows how to tame, From savages creates heroic fame. And as the spring doth sustenance bestow On all the plants, on bushes in the mead, Its placid plenty goes to overflow And endlessly with lavish love to feed The banks by which it wanders, gliding slow, Supplying beauteous nature's every need; So he who prudent Education doth procure The towering heights of honor will secure. From out his lips the water, crystal pure, Of perfect virtue shall not cease to go. With careful doctrines of his faith made sure, The powers of evil he will overthrow, Like foaming waves that never long endure, But perish on the shore at every blow; And from his good example other men shall learn Their upward steps toward the heavenly paths to turn. Within the breast of wretched humankind She lights the living flame of goodness bright; The hands of fiercest criminal doth bind; And in those breasts will surely pour delight Which seek her mystic benefits to find, Those souls She sets aflame with love of right. It is a noble fully-rounded Education That gives to life its surest consolation. And as the mighty rock aloft may tower Above the center of the stormy deep In scorn of storm, or fierce Sou'wester's power, Or fury of the waves that raging seep, Until, their first mad hatred spent, they cower, And, tired at last, subside and fall asleep, -So he that takes wise Education by the hand, Invincible shall guide the reigns of motherland. On sapphires shall his service be engraved, A thousand honors to him by his land be granted: For in their bosoms will his noble sons have saved Luxuriant flowers his virtue had transplanted: And by the love of goodness ever laved, The lords and governors will see implanted To endless days, the Christian Education, Within their noble, faith-enrapture nation. And as in early morning we behold The ruby sun pour forth resplendent rays; And lovely dawn her scarlet and her gold, Her brilliant colors all about her sprays; So skillful noble Teaching doth unfold To living minds the joy of virtuous ways. She offers our dear motherland the light That leads us to immortal glory's height.

POR LA EDUCACIN RECIBE LUSTRE LA PATRIA

La sabia educacin, vital aliento, Infunde una virtud encantadora; Ella eleva la patria al alto asiento De la Gloria immortal, deslumbradora, Y cual de fresca al soplo lento Reverdece el matiz de flor odora; Asi la educacin, con sabia mano, Bienhechora engrandece al ser humano. Por ella sacrifica su existencia El mortal y el plcido reposo; Por ella nacer vnse el arte y ciencia Que cien al humano lauro hermoso: Y cual del alto monte en la eminecia Brota el puro raudal de arollaa undoso; As la educacin da sin mesura la patria do mora paz segura. Do sabia educacin, trono levanta Lozana juventud robusta crece, Que subyuga el error con firme planta Y con nobles ideas se engrandece: Del vicio la cerviz, ella quebranta; Negro crimen ante ella palidece: Ella domea bbaras naciones, Y de salvajes hace campeones. Y cual el manantial, que alimentando La plantas, los arbustos de la vega, Do plcido caudal va derramando, Y con bondoso afn constante riega Las riberas do vse deslizando, Y la bella natura nada niega; Tal el que sabia educacin procura: Del honor se levanta hasta la altura. De sus labios las aguas cristalnas De clica virtud sin cesar brotan, Y de ese fe las provides doctrinas Del mal las fuerzas dbiles agotan, Que se estrellan cual vias blanquecinas Que las playas inmviles azotan: Y aprenden con su ejemplo los mortales trepar por la sendas celestiales. En el pecho de mseros humanos Ella enciende del bien la viva llama; Al fiero criminal ata las manos, Y el Consuelo en los pechos fiel derrama Que buscan sus benficos arcanos, Y en el amor del bien su pecho inflama: Y es la educacin noble y cumplida El blsamo seguro de la vida. Y cual pen que elvase altanero En medio de las ondas borrascosas Al bramar de huracn y Noto fiero, Desprecia su furor y olas furiosas, Que fatigadas del horror primero Le retiran en calma temerosas: Tal el que sabia eduacin dirige Las riendas de la patria invico rige. En zafiros entllense sus hechos; Tribtele la patria mil honores; Pues de sus hijos en los nobles pechos Trasplant la virtud lozanas flores; Y en el amor del bien siempre deshechos Vern los gobernantes y seores Al noble pueblo que con fiel ventura Cristiana educacin siempre procura. Y cual de rubio sol en la maana Vierten oro los rayos esplendentes, Y cual la bella aurora de ora y grana Esparce sus colores refulgentes; Tal la noble instruccin ofrece ufana De virtud el placer nuestra cara patria ilustre Inmortal esplendor ofrece y lustre.

It was in 1876 also that he wrote his "Memorial to My Village" which we have printed in Chapter 1. When we recall his drawing, painting, and sculpturing, and the fact that he excelled all other students in scholarship, it is clear why his professors looked upon him as a genius, and his fellow students regarded him with something awe. He wrote, "A Farewell Dialogue of the Students" just before he graduated from the Ateneo. On March 23, 1877, not yet sixteen years old, he received the degree of Bachelor of Arts with highest honors. He never ceased to love the Ateneo. Five years after his graduation he wrote a lovely tribute to the Very Reverend Pablo Ramon, Rector of the Ateneo, on the occasion of that good Father's birthday.

TO THE VERY REVEREND FATHER PABLO RAMON, S.J., RECTOR OF ATENEO, ON HIS BIRTHDAY
Sweet is the breeze which at the break of day, Waving the calyx of the fragrant flowers, Scatters gentle odors everywhere Across the field. Sweet and mellow is the placid murmur Of the gentle brook with silver foam Dissolving merrily between the golden sands And splashing pearls. Sweet are the songs of melodious birds; Soft the aroma of the festive flowers; And fragrances at silver dawn Are soft and sweet. But thy name, Father idolized, A purer sweetness in our breasts instills, Of light extending from th' eternal splendor Its gentlest rays. Most loving hand of God, a father And example thou, whose sincere love, Despite the bitter path of life, Still guides us tenderly. Aye! What might happen with the youthful energy Which burns so merrily within our breasts But for the guidance of thy pious hand; Thy love, thy zeal! We, thy children, Father, -- thou our guide To habitations of eternal bliss. No fear can agitate the mind With such a pilot. May the Apostle whose great name thou bearest, In whose footsteps thou doest walk so valiantly, Grant to thee his grace divine o'erflowing, -Power divine!

Al M. R. P. PABLO RAMN, S. J., RECOR DEL ATENEO MUNICIPAL DE MANILA EN SUS DIAS
Dulce es la brisa que al romper el alba Meciendo el cliz de olorosas flores Suaves olores por doquiera esparce Por la campia; Dulce es y suave el plcido murmullo Del manso arroyo que espumosa plata Ledo desata entre arenillas de oro Y blanco aljfar; Dulces los trinos de canoras aves, Suave el aroma de las gayas flores Y los olores de la blanca aurora Suaves y dulces: Pero tu numbre Padre idolatrado! Dulzor ms puro en nuestro pecho infunde, De luz difunde de esplendor eterno Ms suaves rayos. De Dios la mano cariosa un Padre En t nos muestra, cuyo amor sincero Por el sendero amargo de la vida Nos gua amane. Ay! qu sera del juvenile esfuerzo Que bullicioso en nuestro pecho arde Sin que le guarde tu piadosa mano, Tu amor, tu celo? Somos tus hijos, Padre; t nos guas A las moradas de eternal ventura; No la pavura turbar la mente Con tal piloto. El grande Apostol cuyo nombre llevas, Cuyas pisadas sigues alentado Dete colmado del favor divino Sacro tesoro!

Segunda Katigbak
Rizal's delightful account of "What happened between April and December, 1877", throws so much light upon his boyish heart that it ought not be omitted. It is an account of his first love at sixteen, that painful experience which comes to nearly all adolescents. He writes the story three years later -- the youth of nineteen laughing at himself at sixteen: (06) "One Thursday my friend M. (Mariano), who was the brother of Miss K., came to invite me to go to Concordia College to visit our sisters. We met his sister in the sala (parlor). She greeted us and asked whether I wanted her to call my sister Olimpia. I said yes, and she went lightly, but with a grace I had not seen in anybody else. A little later, when they came, we formed a small circle. "She asked me which flowers I liked best. I told her I liked all kinds, but white and black ones most; she told me she liked white ones and roses, and then she became pensive. "Have you a sweetheart?" she asked me after a short pause. "'No', I answered, 'I never had one because I guess none of the girls ever paid any attention to me.' "'How are you fooled! Do you want me to get you one?' asked the Lady. "'Thank you Miss', I said, 'but I do not wish to trouble you.' "It happened that I had just heard that she was to be married in December, so I asked: "'Are you going to your town in December?' "'No', she answered dryly.

"'They tell me that in your town they are going to have a big celebration, in which you are to take a leading part, and which cannot continue without your help.' "'No', she said laughing, 'My parents want me to retire, but I do not want to, for I want to stay in this college five more years.' "We went on drinking the sweetest narcotic of love, through our conversation. Her looks were glorious in their sweetness and expressiveness; her voice was melodious and I thought an enchantment accompanied every movement. Languor penetrated my heart, and I had feelings I had never known before. . . . "She disappeared and returned with two white (artificial!) roses, one of which she gave to her brother and the other to me; she herself put it in the ribbon of my hat. I gave her a picture I had drawn of her, and she was delighted. She told me that my sister had made the rose she gave me; and, though I knew it was not so, I pretended to believe it. I went home and took care of that rose as a symbol of our 'artificial' love. "The Thursday following that Sunday my aunts went with me. We were seated in a circle, she beside me. My sister whispered I do not know what feminine secret to my aunts, and we two were left alone. I took advantage of the occasion by asking her who had made those roses. Blushing she told me the truth. I thanked her and promised to keep them as long as I lived and added: "'Do you realize how sad it is going to be for me to lose you, after having known you?" "'Suppose I do not marry!" she replied and two tears appeared in her eyes, making her look divine. ". . . But I told my heart not to love her for she was already engaged . . . I resolved to be quiet . . . and not become subject to her yoke, nor to tell her of my love. "Once we did not go to see her because her brother was sick. The next day on the steps we met. "'Have you been ill?' she asked me. "'Yes', I replied, 'but today I am well, thank you.'

"'Oh', she answered, 'last night I was praying for you; I was afraid something had happened to you.'. "'Thank you', said I, 'I should like to be sick always, if that is the way to be remembered by you; why even death would be welcome if it did that.' "'How!' she said, 'do you want to be dead?'" December brought vacation time and Jos went home the day before his new first love. He rode his horse to the roadside where he knew she would pass. . . "Suddenly I heard a noise, and turning my head I saw calesas (carriages) and horses enveloped in a cloud of dust. My heart beat violently and I probably turned pale. . . . "The second coach was occupied by K., her sister, and other girls from Concordia. She saluted me smiling and waving her handkerchief. I only tipped my hat and said nothing. Ah, that is what has always happened to me in the saddest moments of my life. (07) My tongue, usually talkative, goes dumb when my heart is breaking with emotion. The coach passed like a swift shadow and left me no other trace than a dreadful vacuum in the world of my affections. On a horse behind the third calesa rode my friend. He stopped and asked me to come to the town. I was about to follow, and mounted my horse quickly. But in critical moments in my life I have always worked against my will. I kicked my horse and took another road, exclaiming 'So that is ended'. Ah, how much truth, how much instinct there was in those words: the brief hours of my first love had ended; I returned to my town confused and like an intoxicated man. I knew she was the woman who satisfied perfectly the aspirations of my heart, and I told myself that she was lost." Rizal's first love was Seorita Segunda Katigbak. That December she married Don Manuel Luz, and became the mother of Arsenio Luz, who, at the writing of this book, occupies a prominent place in Philippine business and social circles.

Leonor Valenzuela
[NOTE: It might be mentioned that there were two other young women that caught the attention of Rizal. One is a mysterious young maiden of Calamba Rizal only referred to as "Miss L." The romance did not last long as his heart still yearned for Segunda and there was apparently some animosity between Rizal's family and hers. In his Sophomore year at the University of Santo Thomas he also caught the eye of Leonor Valenzuela of Pagsanjan, Laguna. Some of his "love notes" were written in a homemade invisible ink (it could be deciphered under the heat of a candle or lamp). His courtship did not lead, however, to a proposal of marriage. His heart turned to another Leonor who dominated his thoughts for most of the rest of his life. More will be said about this romance in the following chapters. -- RLY]

_______

TO THE FILIPINO YOUTH

Hold high your faultless brow, Filipino youth, on this day grand! Shine forth resplendent now, In gallant glory stand, Handsome home of my motherland! Radiant Genius, arise! Make thy noblest dreams his own; Catch his mind in keen surprise; Swifter thn by tempest blown Sweep him up to glory's throne! Descend, O youth, -- the lovely light Of art and science in your train; -On life's arena, smite And break the heavy chain Where long your pinioned poetry hath lain. Behold how, on this ardent zone Where shadows dwell, the Spaniard's hand, So wise and pious grown, Confers a garland grand Upon the youth of our fair Indian land! O you, who now aspiring rise On fancy's gifted wings From Mount Olympus to the skies, While Poetry more sweetly sings Than any sweetness nectar ever brings. Ye rivals of the nightingale Who carol some celestial lay Beneath the night moon pale, And by the tune you play Drive bitter mortal pain away. All ye who hold the power to free Those sorely grieved, by your charm'd word, And fix in their fond memory, That by your genius is stirred, The immortal thought that ye have heard. And ye who Phoebus' charms expose, That stole divine Apollo's heart; And borrowing from nature's clothes, With artist's magic art, On linen canvas portray every part. O hasten! See whose sacred flame Of genius will be laurel crowned; And hear what moral name, While trumpet peals resound, Around the whole wide world will be renowned! O blessed day and hour, Beloved Filipinas, for your land, Thanks to the mighty Power Which, with loving hand, This venture and this consolation planned.

A LA JUVENTUD FILIPINA
Alza tu tersa frente, Juventud Filipina, en este da! Luce resplandeciente tu rica gallarda, bella esperanza de la patria ma! Vuela, genio grandioso, y les infunde noble pensamiento, que lance vigoroso, ms rpido que el viento, su mente virgen al glorioso asiento. Baja, con la luz grata de las artes y ciencias, la arena, Juventud, y desata la pesada cadena que tu genio potico encadena. Ve que en la ardiente zona do moraron las sombras, el hispano esplendente corona, con pa y sabia mano, ofrece al hijo de este suelo indiano. T, de celeste acento, melodioso rival de Filomena, que en variado concento en la noche serena disipas del mortal la amarga pena; T, que la pea dura animas al impulso de tu mente, y la memoria pura del genio refulgente eternizes con genio prepotente; Y t, que el vario encanto de Febo, amado del divino Apeles, y de natura el manto, con mgicos pineles trasladar al sencillo lienzo sueles; Corred! Que sacra ilama del genio el lauro coronar espera, esparciendo la Fama con trompa pregonera el nombre del mortal por la ancha esfera. Da, da felice, Filipinas gentil, para tu suelo! Al Potente bendice, que con amante anhelo la ventura te enva y el consuelo!

TO THE FILIPINO ARTISTS (02)

Ardent and lovely as houri of heaven, Tranquil and pure as the new born dawn When the clouds are tinted the color of sapphire, There sleeps a goddess of th' Indian soil. She kisses the flowers with her loving breath, -The light spray caught from the sounding sea. The cultured West adores her smile And the white Pole loves her flowery veil. My muse in words that tremble with fondness Sings to her there 'mid the Naids and water-sprites; Offering her my joy and good fortune. With roses of crimson, and wreathes of green myrtle, And lily of white, her pure brow encircle, Artists! In honor of Filipinas!

A LOS ARTISTAS FILIPINOS

Para conmemorar la memoria de nuestro ilustre compatriota publicamos con gusto este soneto, que segun la persona que nos facilit la copia, lo escribi sumalogrado autor en 1880 en el lbum literario de la ya disuelta sociedad de Escultores. Ardiente y bella cual hur del cielo, Graciosa y pura cual naciente aurora Cuando las nubes de zafir colora, Duerme una diosa del indiano suelo. Besa sus plantas con amante anhelo, La leve espuma de la mar Sonora; El culto Ocaso su sonrisa dora Y el cano Polo su florido velo. Mi Musa, balbuciente, con ternura, La canta entre las Nyades y Ondinas; Yo la ofrezco mi dicha y mi ventura. De verde mirto y rosas purpurinas Y azucenas; ced su frente pura, Artistas, y ensalzad Filipinas!

TO THE VIRGIN MARY

Dear Mary, giving comfort and sweet peace To all afflicted mortals; thou the spring Whence flows a current of relief, to bring Our soil fertility that does not cease; Upon thy throne, where thou dost reign on high, Oh, list with pity as I woeful grieve And spread thy radiant mantle to receive My voice which rises swiftly to the sky. Placid Mary, thou my mother dear, My sustenance, my fortitude must be, And in this fearsome sea my way must steer. If deprivation comes to buffet me, And if grim death in agony draws near, Oh, succor me, from anguish set me free.!

A LA VIRGEN MARA

Mara, dulce paz, cardo Consuelo De afligo mortal! Eres la fuente Do mana de Socorro la corriente, Que sin cesar fecunda nuestro suelo. Desde tu solio, desde el alto cielo, Oye piadosa mi clamor doliente! Y cobije tu manto refulgente Mi voz que sube con velz, vuelo. Eres mi Madre, plcida Mara; T en este fiero mar sers mi gua. Si el vicio me persigue con fiereza, Si la muerte me acosa en la agona, Socrreme y dispa mi tristeza!

THE SONG OF MARIA CLARA

Sweet are the hours of one's own motherland Where all is friendly the sun shines on, Where life is the breeze that floats o'er her fields, Where death is sweet and love is more dear. Ardent the kisses which play on her lips As I awake on the breast of my mother, Seek with my arms to encircle her neck, Smile as I gaze in the depths of her eyes. Sweet is the death for one's own motherland Where all is friendly the sun shines on. Death is the breeze for him who has not Any motherland, mother, or one to love.

EL CANTO DE MARA CLARA

Dulces las horas en la propia patria Donde es amigo cuanto alumbra el sol, Vida es la brisa que, en sus campos vuela, Grata la muerte y mas tierno amor! Ardienes besos en los labios juegan, De una madre en el seno al despertar, Buscan los brazos a ceir el cuello, Y los ojos sonrense al mirar. Dulce es la muerte por la propia patria Donde es amigo cuanto alumbra el sol; muerte es la brisa para quien mo tiene una patria, una madre y un amor!

Memories of My Town
Filled my heart with joy profound. 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 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 candor!

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?

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 the Philippines
Rizal wrote the original sonnet in Spanish 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!

Felicitation
I If Philomela with harmonious tongue To blond Apollo, who manifests his face Behind high hill or overhanging mountain, Canticles sends. II So we as well, full of a sweet contentment, Salute you and your very noble saint With tender music and fraternal measures, Dear Antonino. III 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. IV From amorous wife and amiable Emilio Sweetly receive an unsurpassed affection; And may its sweetness in disaster soften the ruder torments. 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. 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. VII V 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. VI

Sweep him up to glory's throne! Hold high your faultless brow, Filipino youth, on this day grand! Shine forth resplendent now, In gallant glory stand, Handsome home of my motherland! Radiant Genius, arise! Make thy noblest dreams his own; Catch his mind in keen surprise; Swifter thn by tempest blown Descend, O youth, -- the lovely light Of art and science in your train; -On life's arena, smite And break the heavy chain Where long your pinioned poetry hath lain. Behold how, on this ardent zone Where shadows dwell, the Spaniard's hand,

So wise and pious grown, Confers a garland grand Upon the youth of our fair Indian land! O you, who now aspiring rise On fancy's gifted wings From Mount Olympus to the skies, While Poetry more sweetly sings Than any sweetness nectar ever brings.

While trumpet peals resound, Around the whole wide world will be renowned! O blessed day and hour, Beloved Filipinas, for your land, Thanks to the mighty Power Which, with loving hand, This venture and this consolation planned.

A LA JUVENTUD FILIPINA
Alza tu tersa frente, Juventud Filipina, en este da! Luce resplandeciente tu rica gallarda, bella esperanza de la patria ma! Vuela, genio grandioso, y les infunde noble pensamiento, que lance vigoroso, ms rpido que el viento, su mente virgen al glorioso asiento. Baja, con la luz grata de las artes y ciencias, la arena, Juventud, y desata la pesada cadena que tu genio potico encadena. Ve que en la ardiente zona do moraron las sombras, el hispano esplendente corona, con pa y sabia mano, ofrece al hijo de este suelo indiano.

Ye rivals of the nightingale Who carol some celestial lay Beneath the night moon pale, And by the tune you play Drive bitter mortal pain away. All ye who hold the power to free Those sorely grieved, by your charm'd word, And fix in their fond memory, That by your genius is stirred, The immortal thought that ye have heard. And ye who Phoebus' charms expose, That stole divine Apollo's heart; And borrowing from nature's clothes, With artist's magic art, On linen canvas portray every part. O hasten! See whose sacred flame Of genius will be laurel crowned; And hear what moral name,

T, de celeste acento, melodioso rival de Filomena, que en variado concento en la noche serena disipas del mortal la amarga pena; T, que la pea dura animas al impulso de tu mente, y la memoria pura del genio refulgente eternizes con genio prepotente; Y t, que el vario encanto de Febo, amado del divino Apeles, y de natura el manto, con mgicos pineles trasladar al sencillo lienzo sueles; Corred! Que sacra ilama del genio el lauro coronar espera, esparciendo la Fama con trompa pregonera el nombre del mortal por la ancha esfera. Da, da felice, Filipinas gentil, para tu suelo! Al Potente bendice, que con amante anhelo la ventura te enva y el consuelo!

TO THE FILIPINO ARTISTS (02)

Ardent and lovely as houri of heaven, Tranquil and pure as the new born dawn When the clouds are tinted the color of sapphire, There sleeps a goddess of th' Indian soil. She kisses the flowers with her loving breath, -The light spray caught from the sounding sea. The cultured West adores her smile And the white Pole loves her flowery veil. My muse in words that tremble with fondness Sings to her there 'mid the Naids and water-sprites; Offering her my joy and good fortune. With roses of crimson, and wreathes of green myrtle,

And lily of white, her pure brow encircle, Artists! In honor of Filipinas!

Yo la ofrezco mi dicha y mi ventura. De verde mirto y rosas purpurinas Y azucenas; ced su frente pura, Artistas, y ensalzad Filipinas!

TO THE VIRGIN MARY

A LOS ARTISTAS FILIPINOS

Para conmemorar la memoria de nuestro ilustre compatriota publicamos con gusto este soneto, que segun la persona que nos facilit la copia, lo escribi sumalogrado autor en 1880 en el lbum literario de la ya disuelta sociedad de Escultores. Ardiente y bella cual hur del cielo, Graciosa y pura cual naciente aurora Cuando las nubes de zafir colora, Duerme una diosa del indiano suelo. Besa sus plantas con amante anhelo, La leve espuma de la mar Sonora; El culto Ocaso su sonrisa dora Y el cano Polo su florido velo. Mi Musa, balbuciente, con ternura, La canta entre las Nyades y Ondinas;

Dear Mary, giving comfort and sweet peace To all afflicted mortals; thou the spring Whence flows a current of relief, to bring Our soil fertility that does not cease; Upon thy throne, where thou dost reign on high, Oh, list with pity as I woeful grieve And spread thy radiant mantle to receive My voice which rises swiftly to the sky. Placid Mary, thou my mother dear, My sustenance, my fortitude must be, And in this fearsome sea my way must steer.

If deprivation comes to buffet me, And if grim death in agony draws near, Oh, succor me, from anguish set me free.!

agona, Socrreme y dispa mi tristeza!

A LA VIRGEN MARA

Mara, dulce paz, cardo Consuelo De afligo mortal! Eres la fuente Do mana de Socorro la corriente, Que sin cesar fecunda nuestro suelo. Desde tu solio, desde el alto cielo, Oye piadosa mi clamor doliente! Y cobije tu manto refulgente Mi voz que sube con velz, vuelo. Eres mi Madre, plcida Mara; T en este fiero mar sers mi gua. Si el vicio me persigue con fiereza, Si la muerte me acosa en la

THE SONG OF MARIA CLARA

Sweet are the hours of one's own motherland Where all is friendly the sun shines on, Where life is the breeze that floats o'er her fields, Where death is sweet and love is more dear. Ardent the kisses which play on her lips As I awake on the breast of my mother, Seek with my arms to encircle her neck, Smile as I gaze in the depths of her eyes. Sweet is the death for one's own motherland

Where all is friendly the sun shines on. Death is the breeze for him who has not Any motherland, mother, or one to love.

alumbra el sol; muerte es la brisa para quien mo tiene una patria, una madre y un amor!

EL CANTO DE MARA CLARA

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,

Dulces las horas en la propia patria Donde es amigo cuanto alumbra el sol, Vida es la brisa que, en sus campos vuela, Grata la muerte y mas tierno amor! Ardienes besos en los labios juegan, De una madre en el seno al despertar, Buscan los brazos a ceir el cuello, Y los ojos sonrense al mirar. Dulce es la muerte por la propia patria Donde es amigo cuanto

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.

Knowledge ever to acquire And may God keep your candor!

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?

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

First Inspiration
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?

that from my lute I emote to the impulse of my love.

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 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

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 the Philippines Rizal wrote the original sonnet in Spanish 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!

First Inspiration by Jose Rizal

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.

Felicitation by Jose Rizal

If Philomela with harmonious tongue To blond Apollo, who manifests his face Behind high hill or overhanging mountain, Canticles sends. II So we as well, full of a sweet contentment, Salute you and your very noble saint With tender music and fraternal measures, Dear Antonino. III 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.

IV From amorous wife and amiable Emilio Sweetly receive an unsurpassed affection; And may its sweetness in disaster soften The ruder torments. V 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. VI 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. VII 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.