Slowly dies he who doesn't overturn the table, he who is unhappy in his work,
he who doesn't risk certainty for uncertainty to follow a dream,
he who doesn't permit himself at least one time in his life
to flee sensible counsels.
Slowly dies he who doesn't travel, he who doesn't read, he who doesn't listen to music,
he who doesn't find grace in himself. he who destroys his own love dies,
he who doesn't allow himself to be helped.
He who passes his days lamenting
about his own misfortune or the incessant rain dies.
-Pablo Neruda