¡Id a mi patria, id extranjeras flores
sembradas del viajero
en el camino,
y bajo su azul cielo,
que guarda mis
amores,
contad del peregrino
la fé que alienta por su patrio
suelo!
Id y decid…; decid que cuando el alba
vuestro cáliz abrió
por vez primera,
cabe el Neckar helado,
le vísteis silencioso
a vuestro lado
pensando en su constante primavera.
Decid que cuando el alba,
que roba vuestro aroma,
cantos de
amor jugando os susurraba,
él también murmuraba
cantos de
amor en su natal idioma;
que cuando el sol la cumbre
del
Koenigsthul en la mañana dora
y con su tibia lumbre
anima el
valle, el bosque y la espesura,
saluda en ese sol, aún en su
aurora,
al que en su patria en su cenit fulgura.
Y contad aquel día
cuando os cojía* al borde del
sendero,
entre las ruinas del feudal castillo
orilla al Neckar
o en la selva umbría.
Contad lo que os decía,
cuando, con
gran cuidado,
entre las páginas de un libro usado
vuestras
flexibles hojas oprimía.
Llevad, llevad ¡oh flores!
amor a mis amores
paz a mi país
y a su fecunda tierra,
fé a sus hombres, virtud a sus
mujeres,
salud a dulces seres
que el paternal sagrado hogar
encierra…
Cuando toquéis la playa,
el beso que os imprimo
depositadlo
en alas de la brisa,
porque con ella vaya,
y bese cuando adoro,
amo y estimo.
Mas ¡ay! llegaréis, flores,
conservaréis, quizás, vuestros
colores;
pero lejos del patrio, heroico suelo,
a quién debeis
la vida
perderéis los olores;
que aroma es alma, y no abandona el cielo
cuya luz viera en su
nacer, ni olvida.
José Rizal
To The Flowers of Heidelberg
Go to my homeland, foreigners' flowers,
sown by a wayfarer along the road,
and under that blue sky,
who guards all my loves,
recount of the pilgrim
the fealty he cherishes for his
fatherland.
Go and say—say that when dawn
first opened your petals
by the frozen river Neckar
you saw him silent at your side
contemplating his home's own forever
Spring.
Say that when sunrise,
that robs you of your scent,
was whispering love songs in your ears
he too was murmuring songs of love in
his native tongue;
that when the sun gilds the summit of
Mount Koenigsthul
in the morning and with his warm light brings the valley to life,
the forest and the fastness--he hails
the same sun
dawning there blazing at its zenith in
his native land.
And tell of the day
when he gathered you
among the ruins of a feudal castle
along the trail beside the Neckar
or in the shaded forest.
Tell what he told you
when with greatest care
he pressed your pliant petals
between the pages of a second-hand
book.
Carry—carry, oh flowers,
love to my loves.
Peace to my country
and its fertile earth,
faith to its men, virtue to its women,
and health and wellness to all sweet
beings
which the sacred hearth of homeland
enfolds.
When you touch upon the beach,
the kiss I put on your lips—sow it
in the wings of the breeze, so that
I might fly with her and kiss them when
I come upon what I worship, love, and
cherish.
But-oh!--you will bring with you and
preserve
perhaps your colors,
but far from the heroic soil of your
home,
to whom you owe your life,
you will lose your scents.
For fragrance is soul and neither
forsakes
nor forgets the heaven whose light saw
its birth.
Tr. EAC
E. A. Costa July 27, 2016 Granada,
Nicaragua
______________________________________________________________
NB: *cogía. Königsthul is the high
hill or mount above Heidelburg. José Rizal
is a National hero of Philippine
independence. As an ophthalmologist, he completed
his specialization at Heidelberg. He
was multilingual and also a poet, a novelist,
an essayist, an architect and pursued
several other callings. He was executed
by the Spanish on December 30, 1896.
