by Pablo Neruda
He who becomes the slave of habit
Who follows the same routes every day
Who never changes pace
Who does not risk and change the colour of his clothes
Who does not speak and does not experience…
Dies slowly
He or she who shuns passion
Who prefers black on white
Dotting ones I’s rather than a bundle of emotions
The kind that make your eyes glimmer
That turn a yawn into a smile
That make the heart pound in the face of mistakes and feelings…
Dies slowly
He or she who does not turn things topsy-turvy
Who is unhappy at work
Who does not risk certainty for uncertainty
To thus follow a dream
Those who do not forego sound advice at least once in their lives…
Dies slowly
He who does not travel
Who does not read
Who does not listen to music
Who does not find grace in himself…
Dies slowly
He who slowly destroys his own self-esteem
Who does not allow himself to be helped
Who spends days on end complaining about his own bad luck
About the rain that never stops…
Dies slowly
He or she who abandon a project before starting it
Who fail to ask questions on subjects he doesn’t know
He or she who doesn’t reply when they are asked something they do know…
Die slowly
Let’s try and avoid death in small doses
Always reminding oneself that being alive
Requires an effort by far greater than the simple fact of breathing
Only a burning patience will lead to the attainment of a splendid happiness…
And live