top of page

The Song Of Maria Clara

  • Jose Rizal
  • Mar 2, 2016
  • 1 min read

Sweet the hours in the native country,

where friendly shines the sun above!

Life is the breeze that sweeps the meadows;

tranquil is death; most tender, love.

Warm kisses on the lips are playing

as we awake to mother's face:

the arms are seeking to embrace her,

the eyes are smiling as they gaze.

How sweet to die for the native country,

where friendly shines the sun above!

Death is the breeze for him who has

no country, no mother, and no love!

Recent Posts

See All
Mi Último Adiós (My Last Farewell)

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...

 
 
 
A Filipinas (A Philippines)

Warm and beautiful like a houri of yore, as gracious and as pure as the break of dawn when darling clouds take on a sapphire tone, ...

 
 
 
Mi Retiro (My Retreat)

Beside a spacious beach of fine and delicate sand and at the foot of a mountain greener than a leaf, I planted my humble hut beneath a...

 
 
 

Comentários


Featured Posts
Recent Posts
Archive
Search By Tags
Follow Us
  • Facebook Basic Square
  • Twitter Basic Square
  • Google+ Basic Square

Life and Works of Jose Rizal.  Proudly created with Wix.com

bottom of page