Let them teach me how to live

Existential poem written in a moment of Angst. The original poem was written in Spanish, which is much better than its English translation...traduttore, traditore :-)

LET THEM TEACH ME HOW TO LIVE "I don't know anything", said the philosopher; "I'm not anything", said the poet. I wish I could attain their Truth And be in the way they were In order to rid myself for ever Of the arrogance and illusion Of those who believe to know And those who believe to be. Let them teach me how to taste The savor of Truth. Let them teach me how to try Reality without biting it. Let them teach me how to sample Beauty without trying to possess it. Let them teach me how to to be, Or rather how not to be With nobility and without fear. Let them teach me how to live, Since I don't know how Because of so much knowing and being. But the tasters don't live anymore. Now they only are, And they still are because they lived, Loved and suffered. I, who am alive, Am less because of not knowing how to live, Being only what I have already been And what I might be tomorrow In my failed life, Hoping that, when I die, My life will have not been hollow. QUE ME ENSEŃEN A VIVIR "No sé nada", dijo el filósofo; "No soy nada", dijo el poeta. Ojalá pudiera llegar a su Verdad, Y a ser como fueron Para librarme para siempre De la arrongacia y la ilusión De los que creen que saben Y de los que creen que son Que me enseńen a gustar El sabor de la Verdad. Que me enseńen a probar La Realidad sin morderla. Que me enseńen a catar La belleza sin intentar poseerla. Que me enseńen a ser, O más bien a no ser, Con nobleza y sin temer. Que me enseńen a vivir, Que no sé Por tanto saber y ser. Pero los catadores ya no viven. Ahora sólo son, Y siguen siendo porque vivieron, Amaron y sufrieron. Yo, que estoy vivo, Soy menos por no saber vivir, Siendo solo lo que ya he sido Y lo que podría ser mańana En mi vida fallada, Esperando que, cuando muera, Mi vida no haya sido huera.

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