In his farewell poem...

It is also interesting to note that fourteen years before his execution, Rizal predicted that he would die on December 30th. He was then a medical student in Madrid, Spain. The entry in his diary reads as follows:

January 1,1883
Two nights ago, that is 30 December, I had a frightful nightmare when I almost died.I dreamt that, imitating an actor dying on stage, I felt vividly that my breath was failing and I was rapidly losing my strength. Then my vision became dim and dense darkness enveloped me---they are the pangs of death.


"I die just when I see the dawn break,
Through the gloom of night, to herald the day;
And if color is lacking my blood thou shalt take,
Pour'd out at need for thy dear sake,
To dye with its crimson the waking ray"

Source: Jose Rizal
Gregorio Zaide & Sonia Zaide

"Product of my confusion"

Doing a great favor for my friend, Angela who composed this poem 2 days ago and asked me if I can post this and I said yes by all means...

Winds of fate blow when we least expect them,
And they are impossible to ignore
I did not anticipate the melange of winds that has gusted strongly
In the midst of my glum and solitude

I was a fool to ignore what lies ahead
Instead I have lost my soul
It was wrong of me to do such
Now though my gaze is fixed toward the future

I want to believe that I can go on as I always had
But yet when I conjured you up
I kept hearing your voice
No matter how much I loved you
I knew it wasn't going to be possible...

Finally when I woke up, after some hesitation
I gathered and pulled myself together,
I knew now what to do...
It'll just be better to keep you in my heart forever...

DON'T QUIT

When things go wrong as they sometimes will,
When the road you're trudging seems all up hill,
When the funds are low and the debts are high
And you want to smile, but you have to sigh,
When care is pressing you down a bit,
Rest, if you must, but don't you quit.

Life is queer with its twists and turns,
As everyone of us sometimes learns,
And many a failure turns about
When he might have won had he stuck it out;
Don't give up though the pace seems slow--
You may succeed with another blow.

Success is failure turned inside out--
The silver tint of the clouds of doubt,
And you never can tell how close you are.
It may be near when it seems so far.
So stick to the fight when you're hardest hit--
It's when things seem worst that you must not quit


PS/ This poem was one of my favorite when I was in high school.