If I could live my life again.
Next time, I would try to make more mistakes.
I would not try to be so perfect, I would relax more.
I would be sillier than I have been.
I would take fewer things seriously.
I would be less fastidious.
Accept more risks, I would take more trips,
Contemplate more evenings,
Climb more mountains, and swim more rivers…
I would go to more places where I have not been,
Eat more ice cream and fewer beans.
I would have more real problems and less imaginary ones.
I was one of those people who lived
sensibly and meticulously every minute of their life.
Of course I have had moments of happiness.
But if I could go back in time, I would try to
have good moments only,
and not waste precious time.
I was someone never went
anywhere without a thermometer, a
hot water bag, an umbrella
and a parachute. If I could live again,
I would travel more frivolously.
If I could live again, I would begin
to walk barefoot at the beginning of the spring
and I would continue to do so until the end of autumn.
I would ride more merry-go-rounds,
I would contemplate more evenings and I would play
with more children.
If I could have another life ahead.
But I am 85 years old you see, and I know that I am dying.
This poem is believed to have been written either by Jorge Luis Borges (1899-1986), an Argentine poet or American poet, Nadine Stair. Everywhere Ilooked (trying to find out who to credit!), gave one or the other – and a few sources listed the author as “Unknown.”
Personally, I think Borges wrote it in Spanish and Stair translated it into English. However, Stair could just as easily have written it, so I’m crediting both men! Something else I’m going to do is print out the poem, put it on the fridge and read it each day.
Joi
