DACA – Rudyard Kipling
Daca poti sa-ti pastrezi cumpatul
Cand toti cei din jurul tau si-l pierd pe-al lor
Si te invinovatesc pe tine,
Daca poti sa te increzi in tine
Cand toti de tine se-ndoiesc
Si sa intelegi indoiala lor,
Daca poti astepta si sa nu ostenesti asteptand,
Daca, cand esti mintit nu folosesti minciuna,
Cand esti urat nu cedezi urii
Si totusi nu te-arati prea bun
Si nici cu multa ardoare nu vorbesti,
Daca poti visa dar nu te lasi stapanit de vise,
Daca poti gandi dar nu gandurile ti-s tinta,
Daca poti intalni si triumful si dezastrul
Si le tratezi aidoma,
Daca poti indura adevarul pe care l-ai rostit
Rastalmacit de cei vicleni,
Daca poti vedea lucrurile carora le-ai dedicat viata, sfaramate
Si le poti recladi cu uneltele tocite,
Daca poti face o gramada din avutul tau
Si-l poti risca pe o lovitura de cap sau de coroana
Si, pierzand, o poti lua de la capat
Fara sa sufli un cuvant despre pierderea ta,
Daca-ti poti sili inima, nervii si vinele tale
Sa-si faca datoria dupa ce demult s-au irosit
Si astfel sa rezisti cand nu mai este in tine
Decat vointa care le porunceste “Rezistati!”,
Daca poti vorbi multimii fara sa-ti pierzi virtutea,
Daca poti umbla alaturi de regi fara a pierde simtul comun,
Daca nici dusmanul, dar nici prietenul drag nu te pot rani,
Daca toti oamenii conteaza in ochii tai, dar nici unul prea mult,
Daca poti umple neiertatorul minut cu 60 de secunde de pas inainte,
A ta este lumea, cu tot ce este in ea,
Dar mai presus de toate, vei fi OM, fiul meu!
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 imposters 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 worn-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!
