If you fall down ten times, get up
another ten, another hundred,may be five hundred;
not to be your falls so violent
nor, by law, must be so many.
With the genial hunger than the plants
assimilate the humus avaricious,
swallowing the bitterness of the reproaches
were formed all the hollys and the saints.
Asinine obstinacy, to be strong,
nothing else needs the creature,
and in any unhappy figure me
that no blunts the hooks of luck ...
All the incurable has cure
five minutes before reaching death!
¡ PIU AVANTI !
Don’t embrace defeat, even defeated,
don’t feel yourself a slave even enslaved,
trembling in terror, think you fearless,
and charge with fury, badly wounded.
Have the tenacity of the rusted nail,
though old and ruined, become a nail as ever.
Not the cowardly folly of the turkey
that folds its plumage at first tremor.
Proceed like God, who never cries,
or like Lucifer, who never prays;
or be like the oaktrees, whose grandour
has need of water and won’t beg…
Let bites and yells of vengeance
Rolling on the dust!, your furious head.
!MOLTO PIU AVANTI!
Those Who shed The tears lover’s
over sorrows than are not their sorrows;
those who forget the sound of his chains
to iron out the other before;
those who walk on the world deliriously
delivering love with generosity,
fall under the weight of their own good works,
dirty, sick, tragic, remaining.
Ah! Never want to mend others wrongs;
never follow compassionate impulses;
Keep the Hate hooks always active
and the judge's eyes always awake ...
and when throw yourself into the box of dead,
despises the cries of thouse alive!
!MOLTO PIU AVANTI ANCORA!
This misserable word is an stage
where everything is stolid and feigned,
where each host keeps hidden
his true self after the coiffure:
Do not say your truth even to the most beloved,
Do not show fear even to the most feared,
do not belived you have ever being loved
regardless all the kisses of love you have received.
Look how the snow to slide
without complaint from her rigid lips,
how much craves the desert clouds
without trusting her anxiety to no one:
Curse of men, but laughs;
live a full life, but dead.
[Edited at 2013-05-03 16:40 GMT]
[Edited at 2013-05-03 16:54 GMT]