Si te
mantienes sereno cuando quienes te rodean
Pierden
su serenidad y te culpan
Si
confías en ti cuando los demás dudan de ti
Y al
mismo tiempo comprendes sus razones:
Si
esperas sin cansarte de esperar
O si te
difaman y renuncias a difamarlos
O si te
odian y persistes en no odiarlos
Sin
pretender nobleza o sabiduría
Si
puedes soñar sin que tus sueños te esclavicen
Si
puedes pensar sin que tus pensamientos te obsesionen
Si
puedes confrontar el triunfo y el fracaso
Lidiando
por igual con ambos impostores
Si
respaldas las verdades que declaras
Alteradas
por pícaros que te tienden emboscadas
Y ver
destruido aquello por lo que has vivido
Para
levantarte y reconstruirlo con tus uñas
Si
puedes arriesgar todas tus ganancias
Para
perderlas y luchar desde el comienzo
Sin
forjar quebrantos sobre tu pasado
Si
puedes forzar tu corazón, tu nervio y tus tendones
Para
que funcionen cuando ya estén desgastados
Y
proseguir cuando en ti no quede nada
A
excepción de una voluntad férrea que te indica que prosigas
Si
caminas entre las multitudes sin que tu virtud desfallezca
O junto
a los reyes sin perder tu sencillez
Y si ya
nadie puede herirte, sea enemigo o bien amado
Si
todos los hombres confían en ti sin sobrepasarse
Si puedes
extender el momento más imperdonable
Con
sesenta segundos de valiosa calma
Tuyo es
el mundo y todas sus riquezas
Y, lo
que es incluso más valioso, hijo mío
Entonces
habrás sido un hombre
Traducción por Hugo Santander
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 impostors 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!
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 impostors 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!
