A Basque in Boise

‘Instantes’ (Moments)

instantes

Today, I came across this beautiful poem by an unknown author, and I had to share. As the year ends and we start thinking about resolutions for the next one, his words only reinforce what I strive to do year after year. I do not want to arrive at the end of my life, whenever that may be, with a suitcase full of regrets for the things I didn’t do. True, I might have chosen the wrong path once in a while, but I didn’t know it at the time. I do now, because I tried.

~ May 2017 be the year to leave your fears behind and live ~

Moments

If I could live my life over again,
In the next, I would try to make more mistakes.
I wouldn’t work to be so perfect. I would relax,
limber up, and be sillier than I have been this trip.
In fact, I know of very few things I would take seriously.
I would be less hygienic.
Go on more voyages and be far more foolish.
I would climb more mountains, swim more rivers,
And contemplate more sunsets.
I would find more places where no one had been.
I would eat more ice cream and fewer salads.
I would have more actual troubles, and fewer imaginary ones.

You see, I was one of those people who lived life prudently
And prolifically hour after hour, day after day.
Oh, I’ve had my moments.
And if I had to do it over again I would have more of them.
In fact, I’d try to have nothing else,
Just moments, one after another,
Instead of living so many years ahead each day.
For that is all life is—moments—
Don’t lose the now.
I’ve been one of those people who never goes anywhere
Without a thermometer, a hot-water bottle,
A raincoat, and a parachute; if I could do it over again
I would go places, do things, and travel lighter than I have.
If I had my life to live over I would start barefoot
Earlier in the spring and stay that way later in the fall.
I would ride more merry-go-rounds, contemplate
More sunrises, and play with more children…
If I had my life to live over again.
But you see, I am 85 years-old, and I know that I am dying.

Translation credits to Jenn.

For the original poem in Spanish, click here.

Thanks for passing by: ↓

María Sesma

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