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Not yet Rizal, not yet. Sleep not in peace;

There are a thousand waters to be spanned;

There are a thousand mountains to be crossed;

There are a thousand crosses to be borne.

Our shoulders are not strong, our sinews are

Grown flaccid with dependence, smug with ease

Under another's wing. Rest not in peace;

Not yet Rizal, not yet.

The land has need of young blood

And what younger than your own

Forever spilled in the great name of freedom.

Forever oblate on the altar

The free? Not you alone Rizal.

O souls and spirits of the martyred brave, arise!

Arise and scour the land!

Shed once again your willing blood!

Infuse the vibrant red into our thin, anemic veins;

Until, we pick up your Promethean tools and strong,

Out of the depthless matrix of your faith-

In us and on the silent cliffs of freedom

We carve for all time your marmoreal dream!

Until our people, seeing, are become

Like the molave, firm, resilient, staunch

Rising on the hillside, unafraid

Strong in its own fibre, yes, like the molave!

We the Filipinos of today, are soft, easygoing,

Parasitic, frivolous, inconstant, indolent, inefficient.

Would you have me sugarcoat you?

I would be happier to shower praise upon my countrymen…

But let us be realist let us strip ourselves…

Youth of the land, you are a bitter pill to swallow.

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12y ago
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Q: Tagalog copy of the poem like the molave?
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