Muere Lentamente

I find this Pablo Neruda poem convicting.


Muere Lentamente
(Español)

Muere lentamente quien se transforma en esclavo del hábito, repitiendo todos los días los mismos trayectos, quien no cambia de marca, no arriesga vestir un color nuevo y no le habla a quien no conoce.

Muere lentamente quien hace de la televisión su gurú.

Muere lentamente quien evita una pasión, quien prefiere el negro sobre blanco y los puntos sobre las "íes" a un remolino de emociones, justamente las que rescatan el brillo de los ojos, sonrisas de los bostezos, corazones a los tropiezos y sentimientos.

Muere lentamente quien no voltea la mesa cuando está infeliz en el trabajo, quien no arriesga lo cierto por lo incierto para ir detrás de un sueño, quien no se permite por lo menos una vez en la vida, huir de los consejos sensatos.

Muere lentamente quien no viaja, quien no lee, quien no oye música, quien no encuentra gracia en sí mismo.

Muere lentamente quien destruye su amor propio, quien no se deja ayudar.

Muere lentamente, quien pasa los días quejándose de su mala suerte o de la lluvia incesante.

Muere lentamente, quien abandona un proyecto antes de iniciarlo, no preguntando de un asunto que desconoce o no respondiendo cuando le indagan sobre algo que sabe.

Evitemos la muerte en suaves cuotas, recordando siempre que estar vivo exige un esfuerzo mucho mayor que el simple hecho de respirar.


-o0o-


Dies Slowly

Dies slowly he who transforms himself in slave of habit, repeating every day the same itineraries, who does not change brand, does not risk to wear a new color and doesn't talk to whom he doesn't know.

Dies slowly he who makes of television his guru.

Dies slowly he who avoids a passion, who prefers black to white and the dots on the "i" to a whirlpool of emotions, just those ones that recover the gleam from the eyes, smiles from the yawns, hearts from the stumbling and feelings.

Dies slowly he who does not overthrow the table when is unhappy at work, who does not risk the certain for the uncertain to go toward that dream that is keeping him awake. Who does not allow, at least one time in life, to flee from sensate advises.

Dies slowly he who does not travel, does not read, does not listen to music, who does not find grace in himself.

Dies slowly he who destroys his self love, who does not accept somebody's help.

Dies slowly he 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 over a subject that does not know or who does not answer when being asked about something he knows.

Dies slowly he who does not share his emotions, joys and sadness, who does not trust, who does not even try.

Dies slowly he who does not relive his memories and continues getting emotional as if living them at that moment.
Dies slowly he who does not intent excelling, who does not learn from the stones of the road of life, who does not love and let somebody love.

Let's avoid death in soft quotes, remembering always that to be alive demands an effort much bigger than the simple fact of breathing.


-o0o-

I thank a pure-blooded Chileno for reciting the poem (with feelings!) to me in Spanish, on that one October coffee cum poetry evening.