Die Slowly

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


Poem: Born in time

Born in time
But out of line
I never knew where I was heading
Childhood games
Along dusty lanes
Beach combed pebbles I was treading
Dark wood pain
Scarred my brain
My own faint shadow I was dreading
Back from hell
A witch’s spell
Another chance at life I was begging
Ripped right through
Who is who?
Years and happiness I was shredding
Hand in hand
And nothing planned
Grey clothed future at our wedding