Es un poema de Ruyard Kipling. Hace mucho que no lo leía (de Kipling me gustan sobre todo esos relatos/novelas de aventuras llenos de nombres sonoros) pero hoy me lo recordó la noticia de un boletín económico que recibo.
Es un poco largo y lo voy a poner en inglés. Os dejo el enlace a una traducción en «argentino» que me gustó por su sonoridad. No me ha convencido ninguna de las traducciones «normales» que he encontrado.
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 worn-out tools:If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath 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!
Ojalá yo pudiera conseguir todo eso: no perder la cabeza, esperar sin cansarme de esperar, no dejar que mis sueños me dominen pero alimentarlos…Eso sí, sé muy bien que tanto el triunfo como el fracaso son dos impostores, sigo arriesgando y perdiendo y diciendo ¡Adelante!
Leedlo con cuidado, es una forma de vida, una filosofía, un himno…Mira, Peter, podría ser la letra del himno que andaban buscando!
Más besos ;-))