THE SONG OF THE TRAVELER

This is the English translation of Jose Rizal's poem, CANTO DEL VIAJERO in Spanish which is found in this page and AWIT NG MANLALAKBAY in Tagalog which is found in this page.

The Song Of The Traveler


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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