forwarded message
Dedicated to Rizal by his classmate Ricardo Aguado, 19 March 1877. To my Dearest Friend Jose Rizal, on His Saint’s Day, 19 March.
That merciful heart divine
Now lovingly inspires
My psaltery unrefined
With voices my mind doth seek
To sing its ardent love.
Your pleasing image alone,
In my soft heart always engraved,
Now removes from me the fraud
The loved star from sailor forlorn
As in an agitated sea.
For you’re, sweet friend of mine.
The only joy of my soul.
And always to be with you
Is my incessant desire
In this sad, unfortunate land.
But since my luck denies
Me such happiness this day,
My Muse with tenderness
Its affection doth sent to you
At this pleasant hour of joy.
And cheerfully is content
Kind heaven to implore
To banish gloomy thoughts
Away from your lusty soul
And in it dwell peace and joy
That as the ardent rays
Of the sun eclipse feeble stars
With mortal grief,
As with belles-lettres you leave
Behind ’neath your footprints the rest.
That such enthusiasm your years
Frustration, wickedness, sad fears
Without perturbing your peace
Like a brook among flowers gay
With thing of beauty pass by.
And if one day finally
The Just calls you to His
Happy home of ineffable joy
Your beautiful soul
May enjoy celestial bliss.
From the author ( not from this blog owner)
I didn’t quite know how to react, especially since the above verses come with a small note that reads, “Rizal, Yesterday I could not give it to you because it was not yet finished, and then I went out and had no more time. Don’t show these verses to anybody, not even to one you trust most.”
How could I have missed something as intriguing as this? When I returned to the office and pulled out my copy of Rizal’s correspondence, there was a small note on the table of contents beside this letter that said, “Is there something more to this seemingly juvenile verse?” For me to speculate would prove to my critics that when I read documents, I actually add one plus one and get three.
Rizal’s reply or his reaction to the above is lost to history. There is one other letter from Aguado to Rizal dated May 21, 1877 that relates the assault on the Luna home by bandits, but even here was a harmless line made meaningful by context. Rizal asked, “Who are the boys at your house?” Now, that I leave to the reader’s imagination.
Before we read this in the context of “Brokeback Mountain” or “Ang Pagdadalaga ni Maximo Oliveros,” we have to guard against hindsight, or the use of 21st-century views on a document from the late 19th century. Maybe we need some background from Felix Roxas, who was a student in the Ateneo Municipal at the time. He wrote:
“... It happened that at the age of 13 when we took up the study of our two classics -- Virgil on the one side and Fenelon on the other -- we staged a play about Olympus with goddesses, nymphs and nereids. Human nature takes its course and, for an infinity of reasons, this instinct develops until such time comes when passionate love letters are addressed to each other by fellow classmates.”
At the time, when an all-boys school had a play, only boys were on stage, playing both male and female parts. The same was true of an all-girls school play. No wonder passions were aroused. So was there anything going on between Aguado and Rizal? I leave that to your imagination.
If my students learn how to read a document, analyze it inside out and form their own conclusions, this is definitely a lesson they will take with them
