ANDRES BONIFACIO THE TRANSLATOR: A CRITIQUE

Rolando M. Gripaldo

The author contends that Bonifacio was an ilustrado or an intellectual, that he translated Rizal’s poem when he was
in Cavite, and that he deliberately mistranslated Rizal’s “Mi ultimo adios”for agitational purposes. Bonifacio used
the awit form in his translation since it was the popular form at the time. He was aware of the significance of bringing
to the masses a revolutionary framework for them to realize there was a way out of their misery.

INTRODUCTION

This paper will examine Bonifacio’s translation of Rizal’s “Ultimo adios.”

Teodoro Agoncillo considered Bonifacio not only a careless, amateurish, and bad poet but a poor translator as well.
To quote him (1956:96): [Bonifacio] was not a poet, judged properly…[and] here and there in his lines, as in the
poem

Pagibig sa Tinubuang Bayan and in his translation into Tagalog of Rizal’s Ultimo Adios he showed poor handling and
lack of confidence in his ability as a translator and as a creative artist. Together with S.V. Epistola, Agoncillo (1963:5-
12, 72-80) tried to show this in

The writings and trials of Andres Bonifacio.

For example, the first line of stanza 17 of “Pagibig sa tinubuang bayan” (“Love of Native Land”) is “Saan magbubuhat
ang paghihinay” when there is no such Tagalog word as “paghihinay.” Agoncillo and Epistola believed Bonifacio must
have meant “strength.” Also, in “Katapusang hibik ng Pilipinas” (“Last Sob of Filipinas”) the first line of stanza 4 is
“Gapuring mahigpit ang mga tagalog” when “gapuring” does not exist in the Tagalog vocabulary. Bonifacio, who may
have committed an error in spelling, may have meant “gapusin,” i.e., “Gapusing mahigpit ang mga tagalog.” Other
errors are of this spelling or typographical nature as in stanza 7 of “Ang mga cazadores” where “mandi” should have
read “mandin” and “halatan” “halatang.”

The word “tanguay,” which Agoncillo and Epistola questioned, may have referred to Cavite since this province is
called Tanguay (literally “the Peninsula”) in another work (Lopez 1912:22, 24-26, 35-39, etc.). The word “aguwat”
(“distance”) in “bakit sa tanguay malayo at aguwat” is a noun and not an adjective like “malayo,” but this can be
interpreted as an instance of poetic license. Agoncillo and Epistola translated the whole line as “for the promontory
is far and distant,” although I think a better translation should be “Why is it in Cavite, which is far and distant.” There
are also words difficult to decipher in stanzas 25 (first line), 26 (first line), and 27 (third line) of “Pagibig sa tinubuang
bayan.” If, however, we cast aside typographical or spelling errors, then there is only one serious instance in which
we can say Bonfacio was a bad poet, viz., the use of the word “paghihinay” in “Saan magbubuhat ang paghihinay.”
But even here the word “paghihinay” may have been a spelling error, for it seems to have been “paghihinang.”

The line may be rendered as “Where will the welded bond” or “Where will the unified strength,” instead of “Where
will the strength” as Agoncillo and Epistola did. In other words, Andres Bonifacio, even if we admit him to be an
amateur poet, was not a bad one after all. It is in the light of the above interpretation that I will analyze Bonifacio’s
translation of “Ultimo adios.” As I will show later, the inaccuracies, misinterpretation, or “poor handling” that can
be identified in the translation seem to me deliberate, i.e., for agitational purposes rather than the result of literary
inadequacy. In what follows I will discuss (1) Bonifacio’s philosophy of revolution in order to set the proper
perspective; (2) the content of Bonifacio’s translation in prose; (3) the critique itself which deals with an extensive
analysis of the translation; and (4) the concluding section which seeks to understand Bonifacio’s significance as a
political agitator and his perception of the important factors that could lead to a successful revolutionary agitation
CONTENT OF BONIFACIO’S TRANSLATION

The first stanza refers to a lost paradise (“kaluwalhatiang sa ami’y pumanaw”). Its first line stresses the farewell
theme of the whole poem. The second stanza expresses the author’s (Rizal’s) willingness to sacrifice his life—be it
sad and repressed (“lubhang malungkot”) or resplendent and charming (“maringal man at labis alindog”)—for the
welfare (“kagalingan”) of his country. Stanzas 3 and 4 convey the willingness of others to sacrifice their lives without
qualms (“walang agam-agam”) for the redemption of their country.

The fifth stanza imparts the author’s recognition of his impending death at the time when the dawn (independence)
is approaching while the sixth stanza imparts his willingness to spill his blood, if need be, to brighten the glow of
dawn.

In stanzas 7 and 8 the author conveys his desire since he was young that she (Motherland) be proclaimed (“tanghalin
ka”) a gem of the Orient sea (“sa dagat Silangan hiyas na marikit”) whose eyes are dry and whose forehead is held
high—no wrinkles of suffering and no stain of shame. The ninth stanza gives the message that in all the author’s life
what he wanted (“ninanasa-nasa”) and always had in mind (“laging gunita”) was to see the Motherland free from
suffering and shame (“guminhawa ka”). In the tenth stanza the author considers it a pleasure to fall (“malugmok”)
in order for the Motherland to arise (“matanghal”) and to die (“hininga’y malagot”) for her to live (“mabuhay ka
lamang”). The next five stanzas (eleventh to fifteenth) portray the relationship between man and nature, i.e.,
between, on the one hand, the author and, on the other hand, the flower and the grasses, the moon, the dawn, the
wind, the bird, the sun, and the raindrops. The author writes “If on my tomb shall grow amid thick grasses a decent
flower, let it touch your [Motherland’s] lips and then kiss my soul; let the warmth of your breath and the waft of
your sincere affection (‘pag- giliw na tunay’) touch my brow underneath the cold grave; let the dawn bring forth the
daybreak (‘magalaw na sinag’) and the swift wind (‘hanging hagibis’); if in case a bird shall descend and alight on my
cross, let it sing a song of peace, and let the sun vaporize the raindrops to return to the skies with my lamentation
(‘pagdaing na hiyaw’).” The sixteenth stanza deals with the author’s death and with prayers: “Let someone dear to
me cry over my early death and when one perchance may pray for me, pray also for my repose, dear Motherland.”
Stanzas seventeenth and eighteenth continue to request the Motherland t pray for the hapless dead, the tormented,
the poor mothers who have suffered, the widows, the orphans, and the captives: “Pray too that they may see your
own redemption (‘kalayaaan mong ikagiginhawa’).” Stanzas nineteenth to twenty-second emphasize calm, serenity,
and total abandon: “If at night only the dead are left to vigil by themselves, never disturb the cemetery’s serenity
and its mystery; in case you hear the sounds of the guitar and the psaltery, it is I who sing to you, dear Motherland;
if no one remembers my grave anymore, if cross or stone marks my grave no more, then let it be tilled by a
hardworking man and let it be hoed and scattered; before my bones shall melt and disappear, let your dust (‘alabok
ng iyong latak’) be the sign they have shared your place.”

The twenty-third and twenty-fourth stanzas emphasize this feeling of total abandon: “It does not matter if I [Rizal]
be completely forgotten, for after all I will travel your skies, streets, and firmaments; I will be a vibrant sound, light,
hues, aroma, echo, sound, song, and moan—the sincere hope of the faith I keep.” The last four stanzas (twenty-fifth
to twenty-eighth) impart the final farewell message to all: “I am going to a place where there is no slave, tyrant, and
hangman; where faith never fails (‘Pananalig doo’y di nakasasagot’); where only God reigns. Farewell to my parents,
brothers and sisters, friends of my childhood, and sweet stranger; farewell, all my beloved: to die is to have a light,
short sleep.”

CRITIQUE

To translate is to render the meaning of a set of concepts in one language into a similar set of concepts in another
language. And the translation is difficult or easy depending on whether the cultures of two different native speakers
are similar or not, since language is culture bound. According to some experts (Thorton and Whatmouth 1968),
“Where the nonlinguistic cultures are similar, translation can often be exact…But where cultures differ, translation
is often difficult.” A metaphorical way of interpreting the difficulty in perfectly translating a language of one to
another language of entirely different culture is to liken it to the act of “fitting in a differently-shaped container with
the solid contents of another container” (Gripaldo 1978:61), while a different way of viewing a difficulty in translation
is by focusing on linguistic structures. As Agoncillo and Epistola (1963:iv) noted, “the structure of Tagalog is so
different from that any attempt at a literal translation would end in a farce, if not in a tragedy.” Bonifacio devoted
two stanzas to Rizal’s one stanza, i.e., Rizal’s “Ultimo adios” consists of fourteen stanzas having five lines each while
Bonifacio’s translation has twenty-eight stanzas of four lines each. We may raise the question “Why?” If culture and
linguistic structure pose some translation difficulties, are these insurmountable in such a way that a Tagalog
translation of Rizal’s poem in just fourteen five-line stanzas is impossible? The answer, I think, is negative. While it
is true that during the time of King Sikatuna and Miguel Lopez de Legazpi, when they made the “Pacto de Sangre,”
their cultures were miles apart, this cultural distance had been shortened—though very slowly and unsatisfactorily—
for a period of more than three centuries so that during the time of Bonifacio the cultural gap was not as wide as
before: in fact, the Tagalog language reflects this cultural change because in addition to Indian and Chinese linguistic
influences, it is further enriched by Spanish linguistic influences (Agoncillo and Guerrero 1970:31-33; Francisco
1971:10-12).

Moreover , the Tagalogs, said Hester (1968), “served as primary mediators of more than 500 years of Chinese,
Spanish, and U.S. influence, selecting from, interpreting, and adapting these foreign cultures to the basic Indo-
Malayan social pattern.” Hence the cultural barrier, albeit still wide, is surmountable. As regards the difference in

linguistic structures as indicated by the fact that Spanish is Indo-European whereas Tagalog is Austronesian, this
difference is something that endures forever. But as I (1978:60) argued elsewhere: Ideas and emotions are not
among those (syntactic and phonemic structures) which are tied down with any particular language. A language is
simply a vehicle for expressing ideas and emotions. When an idea is novel to the language in question, a new word
is coined for it.

In other words, since what is to be translated in “Ultimo adios” are the ideas and emotions therein, then despite
the difference in linguistic structures, a translation of that poem into Tagalog in just fourteen five-line stanzas should
be possible. As a matter of fact, one has only to examine the other Tagalog translations such as those of J. Cruz
Balmaseda, Jose Corazon de Jesus, Albino C. Dimayuga, Guillermo E. Tolentino, Santiago Y. Cuino, J. R. de Leon,
Desiderio Camacho, Nieves Baens del Rosario, Rufino Alejandro, Jose Villa Panganiban, Primo Arambulo, Eduardo
Padilla de Leon, Constancio Santos, Mar S. Yulip, and Vicente de Jesus (Surian 1962:17, 43, 48-49, 54-55) in order to
see the unfolding of this possibility. Why then did Bonifacio choose a poetic framework consisting of twenty-eight
four-line stanzas? Is it a matter of being arbitrary, or did he have a definite purpose? The reason that may be
forwarded for Bonifacio’s arbitrariness is that he was familiar with the twelve-syllable quatrain as shown by the fact
that all his poems were written in this poetic form. But there is no logical reason why Bonifacio could not have
experimented with a five-line stanza. There is probable cause to think he decided to use twenty-eight four line
stanzas not so much for the sake of his own personal familiarity with the quatrain or of his own personal
convenience, but primarily because he was thinking of his audience. He was writing for the masses and, therefore,
he needed more freedom to elucidate Rizal’s message to them and at the same time to present a poetic form that
was familiar to them, i.e., in a twelve-syllable quatrain, since the more familiar awits in currency at the time were in
this poetic form, such a

In terms of syllabication, the original Spanish poem contains fourteen syllables per line (see Rizal 1958:401-402 and
Bernad 1980:118); some English translations vary from ten to fourteen syllables per line;

the translation in local languages (other than Tagalog) and dialects likewise vary from twelve to more than twenty
syllables per line;

and some Tagalog translations range from twelve to eighteen syllables per line. All these translations have adopted
the poetic format of fourteen five-line stanzas. The Tagalog translation of Antonio Valeriano has fourteen stanzas
but each stanza contains ten twelve-syllable lines, whereas those of Bonifacio, Gatmaytan, Sevilla, and Poblete have
twenty-eight stanzas with each stanza having four twelve-syllable lines (Surian 1962:1-43, 48-49, 50-55). Logically,
Valeriano’s format which allots two lines (twenty-four syllables) for each line of the Spanish original is better than
Bonifacio’s format, but apparently this does not conform to Bonifacio’s perception of the poetic form he apparently
believed familiar with the masses. Gatmaytan, Sevilla, and Poblete seemed to have simply followed Bonifacio’s
format. Let me analyze four important stanzas of Bonifacio’s translation