Best Ultimo Poems
Para Mi Familia Y Amistades
Si ustedes estan aqui sentados, escuchando estas Palabras
es porque yo ya no soy de este mundo. Yo todavia estoy aqui
pero ustedes no me pueden ver. A ustedes mis hijos - quiero
decirles que siempre los ame mucho con todo mi corazon.
Yo nunca tuve riquesas en este mundo. Mi mas grande Tesoro
fue haber los tenido a ustedes, fueron el Tesoro que Dios me
mando. Yo los cuide lo major que pude. Dejen que Dios conforte
sus almas y limpie sus lagrimas. Despuez sigan sus vidas y el
tiempo curara su dolor.
Ahora yo tengo que emprender una jornada, pero tengo que
hacerla sola/solo. Por favor no lloren por mi. No he muerto, estoy
empezando una vida nueva. Traten de vivir una vida recta y buena.
Mantenganse siempre cerca de Jesus y asi estaran cerca de Dios.
Pronto nos volveremos a ver. Cuando ustedes suban las escaleras
de oro - sere yo quien los encuentre alli.
A mi familia y amistades les quiero decir - gracias por los anos y
tiempos que pasamos juntos. Por los tiempos que reimos y los tiempos
que lloramos. Como ustedes saben - todo llega a su fin. Ahora yo les
dejo aqui mi ultimo adios. Desde Arriba yo le pedire a Jesus nuestro Senor
que los bendiga a todos y cada uno de ustede. Adios...
08/19/2014
By Lucilla M. Carrillo
The last sigh of the Moor, King Boabdil,
As he flees the triumphant Ferdinand,
Echoes round slopes of a mist-shrouded hill.
He looks back for the last time at the land
That he once ruled. `Weep as a woman will,’
His mother jeers behind her jewelled hand,
`For what you would not defend as a man!’
He stares northwards as long as he can,
Marvelling at the distant snow-capped hills
Gently cradling the Alhambra’s walls,
Its towers, placid ponds, and sparkling rills,
Treasuring them. Later, when he recalls
This scene, he deems its loss the worst of ills
That ever befell him, and, saddened, falls
To yearning for water from those mountains
And the Generalife’s dancing fountains.
A tale as romantic as any told -
This Moorish palace of earthly pleasure,
Its red stone, now mellowed to pink and gold,
Is a wonder of the world to treasure.
Like Boabdil, I want to hoard and hold
Its magical light, and, for good measure,
The sound of Granada’s gurgling streams
In my mind to recall in pleasant dreams.
A time when only a few dared to fight
against a foreign tyrant,
A Poet rose to speak
Oppressions suffered by Filipinos
in his writings, he revealed
A Poet with no fear
Freedom he sought through his powerful pen
Killed for his words and beliefs
A Poet noble act
“Mi Ultimo Adios”, his final notes
left a mark and legacy
A Poet, a Hero
18 April 2018
Note: Dr. Jose Rizal is a Philippine national hero, a prolific poet and novelist during the Spanish colonial era. 'Mi Ultimo Adios' (English translation: My Last Farewell) was the last poem he wrote before he was executed in Manila on December 30, 1896.
Right? Fine. Finished.
During what avail, what time.
Shake this, crisps on bread.
Ultimo Dragon, wrestling and fights
Likewise, Mr Artist.
Package this, like fries.
McDonald's, eat much.
Yum, yum, delicious times.
Screwball sassy.
Likewise this.
sited down with his head, the chilled lonely table.
pen cries lovely piece of solemn lyrics, his head uttered.
last sky may be till tomorrow, no more other days.
I saw tears fell among dusty floor, a nail stroke my heart.
farewell dearly beloved, his first solemn phrase.
he dream for shiny beloved land, smiling at the sun.
where moon creates gold, for better own children alone.
he wish for a dream, where he wouldn't taste at all.
heaviest morning comes like a mourning cloud.
as counted journey flew to the end of sight.
he let his feet move, conquered the fear so dim.
as tied hands live the shadowed song, heart on grave.
farewell dearly beloved, his last dying words
before the guns vomit a deadly burning fumes
tears just fall, while smile been seen glowing
the hero just shout, set free my beloved land.
Authors Note:
This is a story of the last day before the death of the Philippine National Hero, Dr. Jose Rizal.
From the night of the his last piece written the Mi Ultimo Adios, to the time of the firing squad.
"Te recuerdo como eras en el ultimo otono..."
(I remember how you were in the last autumn.)
---- Pablo Neruda
Dawn seems much later --
the nights much longer
than they used to be...
I am achier, and morning light
comes tardy. Our cats and I
are in the house and you, alas,
are not. Missing you,
they mourn, like me,
your touch, your voice,
lightning looks you aimed our way.
The house, the town, the world --
life itself -- are emptier, lacking
your zest, the flavor of your presence --
your voice, your smell, the looks
in your shining eyes. We will go on,
although in ways much changed:
without your laugh, your sneer,
flashes of your ire and then
regretful, rapid calming.
We do, and will, still remember,
these cats, and I, and
we will not forget.
No. How could we?
The void you left
will not be filled and
we will not, will not,
will not forget.
The tongue slips
over the grayish-blue
edge
of a Catalonian knife.
Salt.
Tambours bang.
Me or him.
The dark dance starts.
A step
… a jump.
The night –
an award for death.
A red dress –
survival.
Curse eternal –
Carmen.
Corrida – ever.
The knife stabs in the back
and the crowd cries
'More!'.
Breath, breath – the edge
squeals…
*‘Ultimo! (Spanish)
Your future dreams
Empty paper in your hands
Disguised as desire
Your words written in silence
Until the last sunlight vanishes
--------------------------------------
Deine Zukunftsträume
Leeres Papier in deinen Händen
Als Wunsch verkleidet
Deine Worte in Stille geschrieben
Bis das letzte Sonnenlicht verlöscht
---------------------------------------
Seus somnis per al futur
Blanc de paper a les seves mans
Disfressat com un anhel
Les teves paraules escrites en silenci
Fins a la llum del sol extingit
------------------------------------------
I tui sogni per il futuro
Foglio bianco nelle tui mani
Travestito da un desiderio
Le tue parole scritte nel silensio
Fino al quando il sole si spegne ultimo
Note: The Catalán version is for Ruben and the Italian one for Lisa-Marie and Charma
In the vast green meadow
Next to the water was a special celebration
On a night like no other this was the scene.
There were many tents with family crests,
Tables, food galore, seats, people everywhere,
Lit lanterns and fires gave this place an
Extra warm glow.
Royalty was all there of the Gnomes, Dwarves,
Brownies, House Elves, Wood Elves, River Elves,
Fairies, Unicorns, Dragons, Witches, Wizards,
Goblins, Hobbits and even the ones who are a
Rare show.
I learned they were all related in one way or
Another when court did convene
In the vast green meadow.
You could see love overflowed to and fro.
This wasn't a dream I know what I had seen.
There were many tents with family crests,
Tables, food galore, seats, people everywhere,
Lit lanterns and fires gave this place an
Extra warm glow.
It was like being somewhere over the rainbow
Except everyone wore velveteen
In the vast green meadow.
It was ultimo primo
And very serene.
There were many tents with family crests,
Tables, food galore, seats, people everywhere,
Lit lanterns and fires gave this place an
Extra warm glow.
Father, Mother, Sons, daughters, grandchildren,
Great grandchildren, Uncles, Aunts, Cousins,
All in a family portfolio.
This one would never be seen in a magazine.
In a vast green meadow
There were many tents with the family crests,
Tables, food galore, seats, people everywhere,
Lit lanterns and fires gave this place an
Extra warm glow.
In a forest dim with paths untold,
"The Road Not Taken" did unfold.
Robert Frost, with gentle prose,
Asked which path a traveler chose.
William Henley's "Invictus" pride,
In darkness, strength will never hide.
"Unconquerable," his soul's refrain,
Through trials, resilience does sustain.
Max Ehrmann's "Desiderata" gleams,
With timeless wisdom, guiding dreams.
In silence, peace we often find,
In storms, seek calm within the mind.
José Rizal's "Mi Ultimo Adios" soars,
A final farewell, as freedom implores.
In the face of martyrdom, courage and grace,
For love of country, in death's embrace.
"Footprints in the Sand" reminds,
Of a presence, in our toughest times.
When we see one set alone,
It's then we are not on our own.
Mary Oliver's "The Journey" calls,
To take the path when your heart enthralls.
Choices abound, with courage embraced,
A journey of self, in the choices we faced.
In every step, a choice anew,
Victory awaits, it's up to you!
Embrace the power, bold and bright,
Our destiny's crafted, with each choice in sight.
Six voices, each with stories grand,
Guide us through life’s wondrous land.
A symphony of words we sing,
In life's grand adventure, let joy spring.
Energia
Desde sempre
é o ritmo
da produção
e da conservação
da energia mental,
que dá a força,
do ultimo
ao primeiro
passo
na direção
de fazer
sempre
mais e mais.
Crie energia,
conserve energia
e garanta para si
sempre
fazer mais e mais.
Ultimo dia
Na vida ou nos negócios
as pessoas
seja ela quem for,
a pessoa experimenta
um último pedaço de boa sorte
e um último dia do mês.
Você sempre quer seguir em frente?
no último dia
veja o quanto tudo
está tão perto.
No ultimo dia,
aprenda a fazer um pouco a mais
porque o ” pedaço de boa sorte”
está lá...