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Nikad, ali stvarno nikad nisam voleo poeziju, čak šta više mrzeo sam je iz dna duše...
Verovatno je to posledica školskog sistema koji me je terao da učim na pamet, pesme koje me nisu doticale niti interesovale....
Danas sam "nabasao" na poemu Rađarda Kiplinga "Ako" ....
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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 wornout 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! |
to isto u srpskom prevodu:
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Ako - Radjard Kipling (Rudyard Kipling)
Ako možeš da vidiš
uništeno delo svoga života,
i bez jedne reči da ga ponovo gradiš,
ili da bez uzdaha ili protesta,
podneseš gubitak onoga što si dugo tekao;
ako možeš da budeš zaljubljen, ali ne i lud od ljubavi,
ako možeš da budes jak, a da ipak ostaneš nežan,
da ne mrziš one koji tebe mrze,
a da se ipak boriš i braniš;
ako možeš da slušaš kako tvoje reči
izvrću nevaljalci, da razdraže glupake,
i da čujes kako luda usta o tebi lažu,
a da sam ne kažeš ni jednu laž;
ako možeš da sačuvaš dostojanstvo i slavu,
ako možeš da budeš skroman,
iako si savetodavac kraljeva,
ako možeš da voliš svoje prijatelje kao braću,
a da ti ni jedan ne bude sve i svja;
ako znaš da razmišljaš, da posmatraš i upoznaješ,
a da nikad ne postanes skeptik ni rušilac,
ako znaš da sanjariš, a da ti san ne bude gospodar,
da mastaš, a da ne budes samo maštar;
ako možeš da budes čvrst, ali nikad divalj,
ako možeš da budes dobar,
ako možeš da budes pametan,
a da nisi čistunac i sitničar;
ako možeš da zadobijes pobedu posle poraza,
a da te dve varke podjednako primiš,
ako možeš da sačuvaš hrabrost i glavu,
kad je svi ostali izgube.
Tada će sreća i pobeda
biti zauvek tvoji poslušni robovi,
i ono što više vredi nego slava:
Bićes Čovek Sine moj!
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RUDYARD KIPLING 1865-1936
RUDYARD KIPLING was born in Bombay on December 30th 1865, son of John Lockwood Kipling, an artist and teacher of architectural sculpture, and his wife Alice. His mother was one of the talented and beautiful Macdonald sisters, four of whom married remarkable men, Sir Edward Burne-Jones, Sir Edward Poynter, Alfred Baldwin, and John Lockwood Kipling himself.
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