Ode to life
He or she who becomes slave of
repeating every day the same itineraries,
who does not change the brand,
who does not risk and change the color of the clothes,
does not talk to those who do not know.
He or she who makes of television his guru.
He or she who shuns passion,
who prefers black on white, dotting the 'i'
rather than a set of emotions,
the kind that make shining eyes,
that turn a yawn a smile,
those that make the heart beat in front of mistakes and feelings.
Slowly dies who does not overthrow the table
who is unhappy at work,
who does not risk certainty for uncertainty, to chase a dream,
those who do not allow, at least once in their lives to run away from sensible advice.
He or she who does not travel,
does not read, does not listen to music,
who does not find grace in himself.
Dies slowly he who destroys pride,
those who do not without help;
who passes his days complaining of his bad luck or the incessant rain.
Dies slowly he who abandons a project before starting it,
who does not ask questions on subjects he does not know
who does not answer when asked something he knows.
Let's avoid death in small doses,
reminding oneself that being alive
requires an effort far greater than the simple act of breathing.
Only a burning patience will lead to attainment of a splendid happiness.
Pablo Neruda
