[First posted December 29, 2013; reposting on the occasion of the writer’s death anniversary on December 30, 1896, the date he was executed by firing squad upon being accused of treason by Spanish colonial authorities.–Admin1]
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“Through reasoning and by necessity, rather than faith, do I firmly believe in the existence of a creative Being. Who is he? I do not know.
What human sounds, what accents are we to use in pronouncing the name of this Being whose works overwhelm the imagination? Can anyone give him an adequate name. . . We call him Dios but this only comes from the Latin deus and ultimately from the Greek Zeus. What kind of being is he?
I would attribute to him, to an infinite degree, all the beautiful and holy qualities my mind can think of, but the fear of my ignorance constrains me. . . Even so I venture to think of him as infinitely wise, mighty, good. . . when I behold the wonders of his works, the order that reigns over the universe, the magnificence and expanse of creation, and the goodness that shines in all. . .The thought of him humbles me and sends my mind reeling; and whenever my reason rises to reach this Being, who created planets, suns, worlds and galaxies without number, it falls back stunned, puzzled and crushed. Fear overcomes me and I rather remain silent. . .
Filled by this vague but irresistible sentiment in face of the inconceivable, the superhuman, the infinite, I leave this study to brighter intelligences and hold in abeyance what the religions have to say. Unable to pass judgment on what surpasses my powers, I settle for studying God in his creatures like myself and in the voice of my conscience, which only can have come from him.
I strive to read and find his will in all the surrounds me and in the mysterious sentiment speaking from within me, which I strive to purify above all else. The various religions claim to have God’s will condensed and written in books and dogmas; but apart from the many contradictions, conflicting interpretations of words and many obscure and untenable points I find in them, my conscience, my reason cannot admit that he, who like a wise father had provided his creatures with everything necessary for this life, proceeded to bury what was necessary for eternal life in the obscurities of language unknown to the rest of the world and hide it behind metaphors and deeds that go against the very laws of nature. . .
But I do not mean by this that I completely disregard what the sacred books, religious precepts and religious dogmas have to say. On the contrary these books are, in the final analysis, the insights of men and whole generations put down in writing. . . When there arises a conflict among them, I decide in favor of that which most conforms with nature’s law because for me nature is the only divine book of unquestionable legitimacy, the sole manifestation of the Creator that we have here in this life – clear, perennial, living, powerful, capable of overcoming our blunders and errors, incorruptible, one that cannot play false in spite of human caprice, with its laws constant and unchangeable in all places and for all times.”
Dr. Jose P. Rizal,
Philippine National Hero
[Source: Father Raul J. Bonoan, S.J. The Rizal-Pastells Correspondence, the Hitherto Unpublished Letters of Jose Rizal and Portions of Fr. Pablo Pastells Fourth Letter and Translation of the Correspondence, together with a Historical Background and Theological Critique. (1994)]
Image from brokenarrowlove.wordpress.com
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“I go where there are no slaves,
hangmen or oppressors;
Where faith does not kill;
where the one who reigns is God.”
“Mi Ultimo Adios” st. 13 – poem written on the eve of his execution
(29 December 1896)
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“The war of the United States with Spain was very brief.
Its results were many, startling, and of world-wide meaning.”
–Henry Cabot Lodge
Hispanic Division, Library of Congress
From : http://www.loc.gov/rr/hispanic/1898/rizal.html
José Rizal 1861-1896
José Rizal, son of a Filipino father and a Chinese mother, came from a wealthy family. Despite his family’s wealth, they suffered discrimination because neither parent was born in the peninsula. Rizal studied at the Ateneo, a private high school, and then to the University of St. Thomas in Manila. He did his post graduate work at the University of Madrid in 1882. For the next five years, he wandered through Europe discussing politics wherever he went. In 1886, he studied medicine at the University of Heidelberg and wrote his classic novel Noli me Tangere, which condemned the Catholic Church in the Philippines for its promotion of Spanish colonialism. Immediately upon its publication, he became a target for the police who even shadowed him when he returned to the Philippines in 1887. He left his country shortly thereafter to return to Spain where he wrote a second novel, El Filibusterismo (1891), and many articles in his support of Filipino nationalism and his crusade to include representatives from his homeland in the Spanish Cortes.
He returned to Manila in 1892 and created the Liga Filipina, a political group that called for peace change for the islands. Nevertheless, Spanish officials were displeased and exiled Rizal to the island of Mindanao. During his four years there, he practiced medicine, taught students, and collected local examples of flora and fauna while recording his discoveries. Even though he lost touched with others who were working for Filipino independence, he quickly denounced the movement when it became violent and revolutionary. After Andrés Bonifacio issued the Grito de Balintawak in 1896, Rizal was arrested, convicted of sedition, and executed by firing squad on December 30, 1896.
Image from www.photoworldmanila.com
Following the revolution, Rizal was made a saint by many religious cults while the United States authorities seized on his non-violent stance and emphasized his views on Filipino nationalism rather than those of the more action-oriented Emilio Aguinaldo and Andrés Bonifacio.
And when my grave by all is no more remembered,
With neither cross nor stone to mark its place,
Let it be ploughed by man, with spade let it be scattered
And my ashes ere to nothingness are restored,
Let them turn to dust to cover thy earthly space.
. . . Farewell to all I love; to die is to rest.
Image from www.gov.ph
“Mi Último Adiós”
Adios, Patria adorada, region del sol querida,
Perla del Mar de Oriente, nuestro perdido eden,
A darte voy alegre, la triste, mustia vida;
Ya fuera mas brillante, mas fresca mas florida,
También por ti la diera, la diera por tu bien.
En campos de batalla, luchando, con delirio,
Otros te dan sus vidas, sin dudas, sin pesar.
El sitio nada importa: ciprés, laurel o lirio,
Cadalso o campo abierto combate o cruel martirio,
Lo mismo es si lo piden la Patria y el hogar.
Yo muero, cuando veo que el cielo se colora
Y al fin anuncia el día, tras lóbrego capuz;
Si grana necesitas, para teñir tu aurora,
Vierte la sangre mia, derramala en buen hora,
Y dorela un reflejo de su naciente luz!
Mis sueños, cuando apenas muchacho adolescente,
Mis sueños cuando joven, ya lleno de vigor,
Fueron el verte un dia, joya del mar de Oriente,
Secos los negros ojos, alta la tersa frente,
Sin ceño, sin arrugas, sin manchas de rubor.
Ensueño de mi vida, mi ardiente vivo anhelo,
¡Salud! te grita el alma, que pronto va a partir;
¡Salud! ah, que es hermoso caer por darte vuelo,
Morir por darte vida, morir bajo tu cielo,
Y en tu encantada tierra la eternidad dormir!
Si sobre mi sepulcro vieres brotar, un dia,
Entre la espesa yerba sencilla humilde flor,
Acercala a tus labios y besa al alma mia,
Y sienta yo en mi frente, bajo la tumba fria,
De tu ternura el soplo, de tu hálito el calor.
Deja a la luna verme, con luz tranquila y suave,
Deja que el elba envie su resplandor fugas;
Deja gemir al viento, con su murmullo grave;
Y si desciende y posa sobre mi cruz un ave,
Deja que el ave entone su cántico de paz.
Deja que el sol, ardiendo, las lluvias evapore,
Y al cielo tornen puras, con mi clamor en pos;
Deja que un ser amigo mi fin temprano llore;
Y en las serenas tardes, cuando por mi alguien ore,
Ora también, ¡oh Patria!, por mi descanso a Dios.
Ora por todos cuantos murieron sin ventura;
Por cuantos padecieron tormentos sin igual;
Por nuestras pobres madres, que gimen su amargura;
Por huerfanos y viudas, por presos entortura;
Y ora por ti, que veas tu redención final.
Y cuando, en noche oscura, se envuela el cementerio,
Y solos solo muertos queden velando alli,
No turbes su reposo, no turbes el misterio;
Tal ves acordes oigas de citara o salterio;
Soy yo, querida Patria, yo que te canto a ti.
Y cuando ya mi tumba, de todas olvidada,
No tenga cruz ni piedra que marquen su lugar,
Deja que la are el hombre, la esparza con la azada,
Y mis cenizas, antes que vuelvan a la nada,
El polvo de tu alfombra que vayan a formar.
Entonces nada importa me pongas en olvido,
Tu atmósfera, tu espacio, tus valles cruzaré;
Vibrante y limpia nota sere para tu oido;
Aroma, luz, colores, rumor, canto, gemido,
Constante repitiendo la esencia de mi fe.
Mi Patria idolatrada, dolor de mis dolores,
Querida Filipinas, oye el postrer adois.
Ahi, te dejo todo: mis padres, mis amores.
Voy donde no hay esclavos, verdugos ni opresores;
Donde la fe no mata, donde el que reina es Dios.
Adios, padres y hermanos, trozos del alma mia,
Amigos de la infrancia, en el perdido hogar;
Dal gracias, que descanso del fatigoso dia;
Adios, dulce extranjera, mi amiga, mi alegria;
Adios, queridos seres. Morir es descansar.
Jose Rizal
Spanish (Original Version)
Image from www.hollandamericablog.com