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
