Compilation of Rizal's Work and Writing
1. TO MY FELLOW CHILDREN
Whenever people of a country truly love
The language which by heav'n they were taught to use
That country also surely liberty pursue
As does the bird which soars to freer space above.
For language is the final judge and referee
Upon the people in the land where it holds sway;
In truth our human race resembles in this way
The other living beings born in liberty.
Whoever knows not how to love his native tongue
Is worse than any best or evil smelling fish.
To make our language richer ought to be our wish
The same as any mother loves to feed her young.
Tagalog and the Latin language are the same
And English and Castilian and the angels' tongue;
And God, whose watchful care o'er all is flung,
Has given us His blessing in the speech we calim,
Our mother tongue, like all the highest that we know
Had alphabet and letters of its very own;
But these were lost -- by furious waves were overthrown
Like bancas in the stormy sea, long years ago.
2. MY FIRST INSPIRATION (Mi Primera Inspiracion, 1874)
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
Whenever people of a country truly love
The language which by heav'n they were taught to use
That country also surely liberty pursue
As does the bird which soars to freer space above.
For language is the final judge and referee
Upon the people in the land where it holds sway;
In truth our human race resembles in this way
The other living beings born in liberty.
Whoever knows not how to love his native tongue
Is worse than any best or evil smelling fish.
To make our language richer ought to be our wish
The same as any mother loves to feed her young.
Tagalog and the Latin language are the same
And English and Castilian and the angels' tongue;
And God, whose watchful care o'er all is flung,
Has given us His blessing in the speech we calim,
Our mother tongue, like all the highest that we know
Had alphabet and letters of its very own;
But these were lost -- by furious waves were overthrown
Like bancas in the stormy sea, long years ago.
2. MY FIRST INSPIRATION (Mi Primera Inspiracion, 1874)
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