On this day, Philippines' national hero Jose Rizal was executed

The Philippines hero Jose Rizal was executed by firing squad in 1896.

Jose Rizal did not lead an army or bear arms against Spain. In fact, he believed the Filipinos were not well equipped for a revolution and an armed rebellion was doomed to fail, not because the Filipinos were not brave enough or deserved their freedom, but because they did not have the enough weapons or military training necessary for success.

Nevertheless, his political writings inspired other men of action and struck fear in the hearts of the Spanish authorities and Catholic Church.

For the ideas he espoused, he was accused of sedition and executed by firing squad on Dec. 30, 1896.

Today, the field where he was executed has been turned into a park and Dec. 30 has been designated as Rizal Day, a national holiday in the Philippines.

His words and execution are largely credited with inspiring Filipinos to rise up against the Spanish colonizers.

Scholars may debate the significance of his role as the Philippines sought freedom from Spain's  300-year rule, but his sacrifice cannot be questioned. His martyrdom has been ingrained into the Filipino psyche, no matter where they might reside in the world.

'I have believed that autonomy was bound to come little by little, and independence after a lapse of years," Rizal said, believing the Spanish would eventually see the righteousness of freedom for the Filipinos.

His writings still resonate with Filipinos and Filipino Americans today: “Like most of you, I was brought up ignorant of our country's past … (so) if [my work on Philippine history] awakens your consciousness of our past, already erased from your memory, and corrects what has been falsified and slandered, then I have not worked in vain.”

Written on small piece of paper during his last hours, he wrote Mi Ultimo Adios. The poem was smuggled out of his jail cell in a gas stove that he gave to his sister.

The poem was originally written in Spanish. Following is an English translation.

Mi Ultimo Adios

Farewell, my adored Land, region of the sun caressed,
Pearl of the Orient Sea, our Eden lost,
With gladness I give you my Life, sad and repressed;
And were it more brilliant, more fresh and at its best,
I would still give it to you for your welfare at most.

On the fields of battle, in the fury of fight,
Others give you their lives without pain or hesitancy,
The place does not matter: cypress laurel, lily white,
Scaffold, open field, conflict or martyrdom's site,
It is the same if asked by home and Country.

I die as I see tints on the sky b'gin to show
And at last announce the day, after a gloomy night;
If you need a hue to dye your matutinal glow,
Pour my blood and at the right moment spread it so,
And gild it with a reflection of your nascent light!

My dreams, when scarcely a lad adolescent,
My dreams when already a youth, full of vigor to attain,
Were to see you, gem of the sea of the Orient,
Your dark eyes dry, smooth brow held to a high plane
Without frown, without wrinkles and of shame without stain.

My life's fancy, my ardent, passionate desire,
Hail! Cries out the soul to you, that will soon part from thee;
Hail! How sweet 'tis to fall that fullness you may acquire;
To die to give you life, 'neath your skies to expire,
And in your mystic land to sleep through eternity !

If over my tomb some day, you would see blow,
A simple humble flow'r amidst thick grasses,
Bring it up to your lips and kiss my soul so,
And under the cold tomb, I may feel on my brow,
Warmth of your breath, a whiff of your tenderness.

Let the moon with soft, gentle light me descry,
Let the dawn send forth its fleeting, brilliant light,
In murmurs grave allow the wind to sigh,
And should a bird descend on my cross and alight,
Let the bird intone a song of peace o'er my site.

Let the burning sun the raindrops vaporize
And with my clamor behind return pure to the sky;
Let a friend shed tears over my early demise;
And on quiet afternoons when one prays for me on high,
Pray too, oh, my Motherland, that in God may rest I.

Pray thee for all the hapless who have died,
For all those who unequalled torments have undergone;
For our poor mothers who in bitterness have cried;
For orphans, widows and captives to tortures were shied,
And pray too that you may see you own redemption.

And when the dark night wraps the cemet'ry
And only the dead to vigil there are left alone,
Don't disturb their repose, don't disturb the mystery:
If you hear the sounds of cithern or psaltery,
It is I, dear Country, who, a song t'you intone.

And when my grave by all is no more remembered,
With neither cross nor stone to mark its place,
Let it be plowed by man, with spade let it be scattered
And my ashes ere to nothingness are restored,
Let them turn to dust to cover your earthly space.

Then it doesn't matter that you should forget me:
Your atmosphere, your skies, your vales I'll sweep;
Vibrant and clear note to your ears I shall be:
Aroma, light, hues, murmur, song, moanings deep,
Constantly repeating the essence of the faith I keep.

My idolized Country, for whom I most gravely pine,
Dear Philippines, to my last goodbye, oh, harken
There I leave all: my parents, loves of mine,
I'll go where there are no slaves, tyrants or hangmen
Where faith does not kill and where God alone does reign.

Farewell, parents, brothers, beloved by me,
Friends of my childhood, in the home distressed;
Give thanks that now I rest from the wearisome day;
Farewell, sweet stranger, my friend, who brightened my way;
Farewell, to all I love. To die is to rest.

As part of her classroom assignment, my niece, who was in high school, read the poem aloud to her class. It drove her teacher to tears.

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