Labyrinth

All our life we'll wait for the answer,
and the question is why?

Michael Cretu

ALARM!?

Only after the last tree has been cut down,
Only after the last river has been poisoned,
Only after the last fish has been caught,
Only then will you find that money cannot be eaten.

Chief Seattle, 1854

Die Slowly

به آرامی آغاز به مردن ميكنی

اگر سفر نكنی

،اگر كتابی نخوانی

،اگر به اصوات زندگی گوش ندهی

،اگر از خودت قدردانی نكنی

به آرامی آغاز به مردن ميكنی

زماني كه خودباوري را در خودت بكشی

،وقتي نگذاري ديگران به تو كمك كنند

به آرامي آغاز به مردن ميكنی

اگر برده عادات خود شوی

،اگر هميشه از يك راه تكراری بروی

…اگرروزمرّگی را تغيير ندهی

اگر رنگهای متفاوت به تن نكنی

،يا اگر با افراد ناشناس صحبت نكنی

تو به آرامی آغاز به مردن ميكنی

اگر از شور و حرارت

،از احساسات سركش

،و از چيزهايی كه چشمانت را به درخشش وامیدارند

و ضربان قلبت را تندتر ميكنند

،دوری كنی

تو به آرامی آغاز به مردن ميكنی

اگر هنگامی كه با شغلت

، يا عشقت شاد نيستی

، آن را عوض نكنی

اگر برای مطمئن در نامطمئن خطرنكنی

اگر ورای روياها نروی

،اگر به خودت اجازه ندهی

كه حداقل يك بار در تمام زندگيت ورای مصلحت انديشی بروی

امروز زندگی را آغاز كن

!امروز مخاطره كن

!امروز كاری كن

!نگذار كه به آرامی بميری

!شادی را فراموش نكن

He who becomes the slave of habit,
who follows the same routes every day,
who never changes pace,
who does not risk and change the color of his clothes,
who does not speak and does not experience,
dies slowly.

He or she who shuns passion,
who prefers black on white,
dotting ones "it’s" rather than a bundle of emotions,
the kind that make your eyes glimmer,
that turn a yawn into a smile,
that make the heart pound in the face of mistakes and feelings,
dies slowly.

He or she who does not turn things topsy-turvy,
who is unhappy at work,
who does not risk certainty for uncertainty,
to thus follow a dream,
those who do not forego sound advice at least once in their lives,
die slowly.

He who does not travel,
who does not read,
who does not listen to music,
who does not find grace in himself,
she who does not find grace in herself,
dies slowly.

He who slowly destroys his own self-esteem,
who does not allow himself to be helped,
who spends days on end complaining about his own bad luck,
about the rain that never stops,
dies slowly.

He or she who abandon a project before starting it,
who fail to ask questions on subjects he doesn't know,
he or she who don't reply when they are asked something they do know,
die slowly.

Let's try and avoid death in small doses,
reminding oneself that being alive
requires an effort far greater than the simple fact of breathing.

Only a burning patience will leadto the attainment of a splendid
happiness.

Pablo Neruda