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Post Info TOPIC: Awit Ng Manlalakbay - The Song of the Traveler - Jose P. Rizal


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Awit Ng Manlalakbay - The Song of the Traveler - Jose P. Rizal
 


Kagaya ng dahong nalanta, nalagas,
Sinisiklut-siklot ng hanging marahas;
Abang manlalakbay ay wala nang liyag,
Layuin, kalulwa't bayang matatawag.

Hinahabul-habol yaong kapalarang
Mailap at hindi masunggab-sunggaban;
Magandang pag-asa'y kung nanlalabo man,
Siya'y patuloy ring patungo kung saan!

Sa udyok ng hindi nakikitang lakas,
Silanga't Kanlura'y kanyang nililipad,
Mga minamahal ay napapangarap,
Gayon din ang araw ng pamamanatag.

Sa pusod ng isang disyertong mapanglaw,
Siya'y maaaring doon na mamatay,
Limot ng daigdig at sariling bayan,
Kamtan nawa niya ang kapayapaan!

Dami ng sa kanya ay nangaiinggit,
Ibong naglalakaby sa buong daigdig,
Hindi nila tanto ang laki ng hapis
Na sa kanyang puso ay lumiligalig.

Kung sa mga tanging minahal sa buhay
Siya'y magbalik pa pagdating ng araw,
Makikita niya'y mga guho lamang
At puntod ng kanyang mga kaibigan.

Abang manlalakbay! Huwag nang magbalik,
Sa sariling baya'y wala kang katalik;
Bayaang ang puso ng iba'y umawit,
Lumaboy kang muli sa buong daigdig.

Abang manlalakbay! Bakit babalik pa?
Ang luhang inyukol sa iyo'y tuyo na;
Abang manlalakbay! Limutin ang dusa,
Sa hapis ng tao, mundo'y nagtatawa.


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A withered leaf which flies uncertainly
And hurled about by furious hurricanes,
So goes the traveler about the world,
No guide, no hope, no fatherland, no love.

Anxiously he seeks a better fortune
And fickle fortune always takes to flight;
A shadow vain that mocks at his desire!
For her the wanderer has plowed the seas.

Driven on by hands invisible,
Wandering from land to weary land,
Only memories to keep him company,
Of loved ones and of bygone happier days.

A tomb perhaps upon the desert
Calls him--refuge sweet of peace,--
Where, by his country and the world forgotten,
Tranquil he may sleep who knew such pain.

And if they envy this sad traveler
When he speeds so swiftly round the world,
Ah, little do they know that in his soul
Exist an aching void for want of love.

Should the wanderer turn back to his country,
And to his home, it may be, make his way,
He would find but snow and ruins everywhere,
All love destroyed, and sepulchres,--no more.

On, then, traveler, pursue your journey,
Stranger to the land where you were born.
Letting others sing their songs of love
And feel their joys, you fare on again.

And traveler, as you go, do not turn back,
For none will shed a tear to say farewell,
Go, pilgrim, try to drown your sorrow,
Because the world but scoffs when strangers grieve.

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Spanish Original

Canto Del Viajero

Hoja seca que cuela indecisa
Y arrebata violente turbion,
Asi vive en la tierra el viajero,
Sin norte, sin alma, sin patria ni amor.

Busca ansioso doquiera la dicha
Y la dicha se aleja fugaz:
Vana sombra que burla su anhelo! ...
Por ella el viajero se lanza a la mar!

Impelido por mano invisible
Vagara confin en confin;
Los recuedos le haran compania
De seres queridos, de un dia feliz.

Una tumba quiza en el desiero
Hallara, dulce asilo de paz,
De su patria y del mundo olvidado ...
Descanse tranquilo, tras tanto penar !

Y le envidian al triste viajero
Cuando cruza la tierra veloz ...
Ay! no saben que dentro del alma
Existe un vacio de falta el amor!

Volvera el peregrino a su patria
Y a sus lares tal vez volvera,
Y hallara por doquier nieve y ruina
Amores perdidos, sepulcros, no mas.

Ve, Viajero, prosigue tu senda,
Extrangero en tu propio pais;
Deja a otros que canten amores,
Los otros que gocen; tu vuelve a partir.

Ve, viajero, no vuelvas el rostro,
Que no hay llanto que siga al adios;
Ve, viajero, y ahoga tu penas;
Que el mundo se burla de ajeno dolor.

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