BVG     Atrás    Índice de Páxinas

IF-SE   IF   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 warn-out tools.   If you can make one heap of all your winnings And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss, And lose, and start again at your beginnings And never breathe 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! Author: Rudyard Kipling       SE   Se podes conservar cabeza e modos No caos do que te han culpar á fin, Se cres en ti, así dubiden todos, Mais tes tamén en conta o que che din; Se podes esperar sen te cansares, Ou, sendo ti mentido, non mentir, Ou, inda que te odien, non odiares, E nin de bo nin sabio presumir. Se soñas, sen facer dos soños lastre; Se pensas, sen que sexa un fin en si; Se ves chegar o Triunfo e o Desastre E trátalos como algo baladí; Se asomes as verdades que dixeras Cambiadas por tramposos en ichós, Ou, véndoo roto, todo o que fixeras Con vellas ferramentas recompós. Se xuntas nun montón os beneficios De toda a vida e xógalos ao chou, E pérdelos, e volves aos inicios Sen nunca lamentar o que pasou. Se, nervio, corazón e mais carraxe Forzados e gastados, segues ti Facendo o teu papel sen máis bagaxe Que a Vontade que manda: "¡Sigue así!". Se entre o vulgo segues inocente, Ou entre Reis, con modos naturais, Se es invulnerable para a xente, Se axudas, sen excesos, aos demais; Se enches o minuto inexorable Cos seus segundos íntegros a treu, Serás da Terra dono indubidable, E - o que é máis - serás un Home, meu.

© 2006 Biblioteca Virtual Galega