At this time of night, when my mind goes blank and I can fully enjoy the sound of silence, some strange episodes come to mind.<\/p>\n
Many years ago, I was lying in the grass. It was pitch dark. The sky, although it was February, was clear and full of stars. And it was then that, after tasting a vodkatini, Pablo Neruda appeared to me. He said to me “Hi Delord, I was just waiting for this day to give you one of my most significant poems. For the simple fact that I realized all the time you are wasting” He stretched out his hand and handed me a handwritten script. It went something like this:<\/p>\n
“Slowly dies those who become a slave to habit, repeating the same paths every day, those who do not change the brand, those who do not take risks and change the color of their clothes, those who do not speak to those who do not know.<\/p>\n
Those who avoid a passion slowly die, those who prefer black on white and the dots on the “i” rather than a set of emotions, precisely those that make the eyes sparkle, those that make a yawn a smile, those that make the heart beat in front of you to error and feelings.<\/p>\n
Slowly dies those who do not overturn the table, those who are unhappy at work, those who do not risk certainty for uncertainty, to pursue a dream, who does not allow themselves at least once in their life to escape from sensible advice. Slowly dies who does not travel, who does not read, who does not listen to music, who does not find grace in himself. Those who destroy self-love slowly die, those who do not allow themselves to be helped; those who spend their days complaining about their bad luck or the incessant rain.<\/p>\n
Slowly dies those who abandon a project before starting it, those who do not ask questions on topics they do not know, those who do not answer when asked about something they know.<\/p>\n
We avoid death in small doses, always remembering that being alive requires an effort far greater than the simple fact of breathing. Only ardent patience will lead to the attainment of splendid happiness. ”<\/p>\n
I was about 15 at the time. I still couldn’t understand the magnitude of these words. Now that I’m 29, I’d like to see him again to shake his hand. Never was a gift more immense …<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
At this time of night, when my mind goes blank and I can fully enjoy the sound of silence, some strange episodes come to mind. Many years ago, I was…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":6944,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1415],"tags":[1404,1549,1550,1551],"class_list":["post-7835","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","category-reflections","tag-delord-en","tag-neruda-en","tag-pablo-neruda-en","tag-poetry"],"aioseo_notices":[],"aioseo_head":"\n\t\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t