Get Busy Living, or Get Busy Dying

The company where I work laid off a bunch more people this week. A bunch of friends and former colleagues were among those affected by the cuts.

One of them shared with me this poem (in the original Spanish). I found several translations, none of which were great, so here is a hybridized version of the best of them

Die Slowly
by Pablo Neruda

He who becomes the slave of habit,
who follows the same routes every day,
who never changes pace,
who does not risk and change the color of his clothes,
who does not speak and does not experience, dies slowly.

He who shuns passion,
who prefers black on white,
and the dot on the i rather than the whirlpool of emotions,
the kind that make your eyes glimmer,
that turn a yawn into a smile,
that make the heart pound in the face of mistakes and feelings, dies slowly.

He who does not turn things topsy-turvy,
who is unhappy at work,
who does not risk certainty for uncertainty,
to thus follow a dream,
who does not forgo sound advice at least once in his life, dies slowly.

He who does not travel,
who does not read,
who does not listen to music,
who does not find grace in himself, dies slowly.

He who slowly destroys his own self-esteem,
who does not allow himself to be helped,
who spends days on end complaining about his own bad luck,
about the rain that never stops, dies slowly.

He who abandons a project before starting it,
who fails to ask questions on subjects he does not know,
he who does not reply when asked something he does know, dies slowly.

Avoid death in small doses,
and remind ourselves that living
is an effort far greater
than the simple fact of breathing.

Only a burning patience will win a splendid happiness.