If— czyli list do syna

Dzisiejszy wpis należy do tych niezwykłych. Bowiem każdy dzień przynosi nową radość, nową nadzieję. Gdy pytam mych znajomych: Hi, what's new? Oni już wiedzą co odpowiedzieć: Everything man! I'm living, I'm breathing! I'm alive! Dziś wyjątkowo mocna poezja i do tego w języku angielskim.


If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or, being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with triumph and disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to broken,
And stoop and build ‘em up with wornout tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on”;

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings—nor lose the common touch;
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run—
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!

Rudyard Kipling, 1865 – 1936

Niecierpliwym polecam tłumaczenie: dostępne pod tym linkiem. A pozostałym przypominam, muzycznie, że jest jeszcze wiele spraw, które nie zostały nazwane. Jeżeli by tak było… Jeżeli…

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Hara Hara Mahaadeva!


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