Και μάλλον δεν είναι του Νερούδα:
El poema "Muere lentamente", atribuido por error a Pablo Neruda, circula desde hace años por Internet sin que nadie sea capaz de detener esa bola de nieve, hasta el punto de que, en España, son muchos los que han recibido esos versos como felicitación "on line" del nuevo año.
http://www.abc.es/20090111/cultura-literatura/muere-lentamente-falso-neruda-200901111836.htmlΣτην πραγματικότητα όμως δεν πρόκειται για ποίημα του Νερούδα αλλά για ποίημα της Martha Medeiros από την Βραζιλία. Η συγγραφέας και δημοσιογράφος της εφημερίδας του Porto Alegre, Zero Hora, επικοινώνησε με το ίδρυμα Πάμπλο Νερούδα για να ξεκαθαρίσει το θέμα, καταθέτοντας ως απόδειξη το γραπτό της στα πορτογαλικά με τίτλο « A Morte Devagar»(«Αργά προς τον θάνατο») που δημοσιεύτηκε το 2000 . Σε μια ανακοίνωση του το ίδρυμα Πάμπλο Νερούδα όπως αναφέρει η Latin American Herald Tribune, ξεκαθαρίζει ότι δεν είχε ιδέα πώς ξεκίνησε όλη αυτή η παρεξήγηση. Όπως αναφέρει η εφημερίδα δεν είναι το μοναδικό ποίημα που κυκλοφορεί και αποδίδεται λανθασμένα στον Νερούδα.FacebookΚαι μια άλλη μετάφραση (άγνωστος)
Die Slowly
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 or she who shuns passion,
who prefers black on white,
dotting ones «is” rather than a bundle 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 or she who does not turn things topsy-turvy,
who is unhappy at work,
who does not risk certainty for uncertainty,
to thus follow a dream,
those who do not forego sound advice
at least once in their lives, die 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 or she who abandon a project before starting it, who fail to
ask questions on subjects he doesn’t know, he who don’t reply when they are asked something they do know, die slowly.
Let’s try and avoid death in small doses,
always reminding oneself that being alive
requires an effort by far
greater than the simple fact of breathing.
Only a burning patience will lead to the attainment
of a splendid happiness.
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Αργοπεθαίνει
Αργοπεθαίνει όποιος γίνεται σκλάβος της συνήθειας,
επαναλαμβάνοντας κάθε μέρα τις ίδιες διαδρομές,
όποιος δεν αλλάζει το βήμα του,
όποιος δεν ρισκάρει να αλλάξει χρώμα στα ρούχα του,
όποιος δεν μιλάει σε όποιον δεν γνωρίζει.
Αργοπεθαίνει
όποιος έχει την τηλεόραση για μέντορά του
Αργοπεθαίνει
όποιος αποφεύγει ένα πάθος,
όποιος προτιμά το μαύρο αντί του άσπρου
και τα διαλυτικά σημεία στο “ι” αντί τη δίνη της συγκίνησης
αυτήν ακριβώς που δίνει την λάμψη στα μάτια,
που μετατρέπει ένα χασμουρητό σε χαμόγελο,
που κάνει την καρδιά να κτυπά στα λάθη και στα συναισθήματα.
Αργοπεθαίνει
όποιος δεν “αναποδογυρίζει το τραπέζι” όταν δεν είναι ευτυχισμένος στη δουλειά του,
όποιος δεν ρισκάρει τη σιγουριά του, για την αβεβαιότητα του να τρέξεις πίσω απο ένα όνειρο,
όποιος δεν επιτρέπει στον εαυτό του, έστω για μια φορά στη ζωή του, να ξεγλιστρήσει απ’ τις πάνσοφες συμβουλές.
Αργοπεθαίνει
όποιος δεν ταξιδεύει,
όποιος δεν διαβάζει,
όποιος δεν ακούει μουσική,
όποιος δεν βρίσκει το μεγαλείο μέσα του
Αργοπεθαίνει
όποιος καταστρέφει τον έρωτά του,
όποιος δεν αφήνει να τον βοηθήσουν,
όποιος περνάει τις μέρες του παραπονούμενος για τη κακή του τύχη
ή για τη βροχή την ασταμάτητη
Αργοπεθαίνει
όποιος εγκαταλείπει την ιδέα του πριν καν την αρχίσει,
όποιος δεν ρωτά για πράγματα που δεν γνωρίζει
ή δεν απαντά όταν τον ρωτάν για όσα ξέρει
Αποφεύγουμε τον θάνατο σε μικρές δόσεις,
όταν θυμόμαστε πάντα πως για να 'σαι ζωντανός
χρειάζεται μια προσπάθεια πολύ μεγαλύτερη
από το απλό αυτό δεδομένο της αναπνοής.
Μονάχα με μια φλογερή υπομονή
θα κατακτήσουμε την θαυμάσια ευτυχία.
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Αργοπεθαίνει όποιος... Martha Medeiros (Pablo Neruda) - YouTube«Αργοπεθαίνει»: Ένα διάσημο ποίημα με άσημο δημιουργό | LiFOIt’s a slow death for those who don’t exchange ideas or converse, and for those who avoid their own contradictions.
It’s a slow death for those who become the slaves of habit, following the same route every day and buying the same things at the grocery store. Those who never change pace, don’t risk wearing a new color, and don’t speak to strangers.
It’s a slow death for those who make television their guru and their daily partner. Many can’t afford a book or a ticket to the movies, but many can, yet they isolate themselves in front of a tube of images that brings information but shouldn’t, in just its few inches, take up so much space in a life.
It’s a slow death for those who avoid passion, who prefer black over white, and dotting i’s over a whirlwind of unshakeable emotions, exactly the kind that bring back the glimmer in our eye, turn hiccups into smiles, allow us to take heart in the face of trip-ups and dark moods.
It’s a slow death for those who don’t turn the tables when they’re unhappy at work, those who don’t risk trading certainty for uncertainty to chase a dream, those who, at least once in their lives, don’t run away from sound advice.
It’s a slow death for those who don’t travel, those who don’t read, those who don’t listen to music, those who don’t laugh at themselves.
It’s a slow death for those who destroy their self-esteem. It could be depression, a serious disease that requires professional help. Then those who don’t let themselves be helped wilt every day.
It’s a slow death for those who don’t work and don’t study, and most of the time it’s not an option, it’s destined: then a silent government can slowly kill a large portion of the population.
It’s a slow death for those who spend their days complaining about their bad luck or the rain that never ends, giving up on a project before starting it, those who don’t ask when they don’t know about something or don’t reply when asked about something they know.
Many people die slowly, and it’s the most ungracious and treacherous death, because when she is truly close, we’re too out of shape to go on for what little time remains.
May tomorrow, then, take its time before it’s our time. Since we can’t escape a sudden end, let’s at least avoid death in easy installments, reminding ourselves always that being alive requires a much greater effort than simply breathing.
Martha Medeiros - "A morte devagar" (versión original en portugués con subtítulos en español) - YouTubeMorre lentamente
quem se transforma em escravo do hábito,
repetindo todos os dias os mesmos trajectos, quem não muda de marca
Não se arrisca a vestir uma nova cor ou não conversa com quem não conhece.
Morre lentamente
quem faz da televisão o seu guru.
Morre lentamente
quem evita uma paixão,
quem prefere o negro sobre o branco
e os pontos sobre os "is" em detrimento de um redemoinho de emoções,
justamente as que resgatam o brilho dos olhos,
sorrisos dos bocejos,
corações aos tropeços e sentimentos.
Morre lentamente
quem não vira a mesa quando está infeliz com o seu trabalho,
quem não arrisca o certo pelo incerto para ir atrás de um sonho,
quem não se permite pelo menos uma vez na vida,
fugir dos conselhos sensatos.
Morre lentamente
quem não viaja,
quem não lê,
quem não ouve música,
quem não encontra graça em si mesmo.
Morre lentamente
quem destrói o seu amor-próprio,
quem não se deixa ajudar.
Morre lentamente,
quem passa os dias queixando-se da sua má sorte
ou da chuva incessante.
Morre lentamente,
quem abandona um projecto antes de iniciá-lo,
não pergunta sobre um assunto que desconhece
ou não responde quando lhe indagam sobre algo que sabe.
Evitemos a morte em doses suaves,
recordando sempre que estar vivo exige um esforço muito maior
que o simples fato de respirar. Somente a perseverança fará com que conquistemos
um estágio esplêndido de felicidade.
