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Sunday, January 17, 2010

The poem IF by Rudyard Kipling...place it in your very own emotional arsensal as well


January 17, 2010


Hey there babies! What's shaking, besides my hind quarters? Today's missive finds me in the mood to share one of my very "favoritest" poems with you by Rudyard Kipling, entitled IF. Now, granted, if you find yourself often boarding the "Literal Express" you are going to need to provide a wider berth for yourself because the last line will have to be converted to "You'll be a woman, my daughter!" for all you goddesses out there and you know who you are! (See how I'm tying together train and berth in a bid for classification as a Wordsmith Goddess?) Poetry is hugely important to me and this particular piece has offered up solace, encouragement and inspiration, often all at the same time. An intellectual and caring friend from long ago shared this with me and though I haven't seen him in a few decades, this poem remains part of my "emotional arsenal."


If


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 imposters 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 wornout 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 breath 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!

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