UZBITONDO, TERROR OF JOLO

(EL COMBATE UZBITONDO, TERROR DE JOLO)

A hundred war-tested vessels
At the mercy of tame wind,
Leave joyful Manila
Ploughing the agitated sea.
Within a while they descry
With Moros from Jolo,
Who proudly hoist
A thousand waving banners.

After strong athletes
Their shores had treaded
And their cannons aimed
Against the enemy’s wall,
With manly accent
The General spoke: “Soldiers:
on your valor depends
the luxuriant laurels of triumph.
I would rather die
Than desist from the attack:
Remember that the country entrusts you with
Her noble, sacred seals.”

Thus, he spoke, like the furious South wind
Fenced by horrid lightnings
in furious tempest
sows mourning and sad wailing;
so does the unconquered Uzbitondo,
by his soldiers followed,
sow death everywhere
with steel in hand.

And like the lion in the forests
Roars, engendering terror,
At sight of the prey
That he with havoc devours;
Thus the famed warriors
With fury and with fierce grimness,
Approach the walls
Launching a daring attack.

And the Lion of Castille
Shakes its angry mane
And primes its sharp claw
To sow weeping everywhere.

Eight fortresses of the Moros
From Jolo surrender
To the fierce roar of Mars
And the havoc of Uzbitondo.

Ah! They are, noble Spain,
Like heroes of Lepanto,
They are those who in Pavia
Were the lightning of war.

Fire consumes and devours
The castles and palaces
And all Jolo possesses,
As our men attack.

Perfidous Mahumat flees,
Impious and tyrant Sultan,
And the valiant warriors
Singing enter Jolo.