This poem by Pablo Nerua says it all about being alive.

In case the translator on the top right does not pick up the text in the image above, I’m taking the liberty of posting my translation below.

“He dies slowly, who

becomes a slave to his habits,

does not risk,

avoids his passion,

does not risk the known

for the unknown,

gives up before starting,

complains about his bad luck,

does not travel, or read, does not dream,

or pursue dreams,

does not trust

does not try

does not love (….)”

 

The opposite is to be alive..

When I saw this poem, I had to post it on the blog, because it is a ‘fitting’ reminder to where I want to be at this point in my life. Does it make you feel the same way?