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9.3
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(419
votes)
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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 impostors 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 worn-out 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 breathe 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!
Rudyard Kipling
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Read poems about / on: loss, trust, son, truth, dream, lost, hate, running, friend
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Comments about this poem (If
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Rudyard Kipling
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Nor Atiqah Rahimi
(11/13/2009 4:41:00 AM) |
i love this poem, it is in my school textbook...i love the meaning.
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Nor Atiqah Rahimi
(11/13/2009 4:32:00 AM) |
i love this poem, it is in my school textbook...i love the meaning.
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Sabrina Jubahar
(11/6/2009 6:50:00 AM) |
poem with perfection in word choices and idea. NICE
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Gina Bologna
(10/29/2009 4:33:00 PM) |
This Poem, Is True, its pure, it has as much meaning to it now as it did when it was writin. I wish everyone was this honest now.
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Michael Harmon
(10/29/2009 12:08:00 AM) |
Imperative Rains
I visit you here, where you want me to be:
looking, listening.
I hear the grumble of imperative thunder above.
I look up:
Clouds, dense with imperative rains, poised
to let loose.
I stay and try to empathize,
but you provide no umbrella.
Then, it comes...
Do this, you say, Do that;
Do what I tell you to do, you say,
It is what I tell you it is;
Because it is heartfelt,
What I say is true, you say,
is true; Think this, you say,
Think that…
By the end of the battering downpour:
my eyes are misty, but not with affection;
my ears are ringing, but not with euphony;
I feel soggy and cold.
Time to leave.
If I know myself at all,
a second visit
is unlikely.
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Herman Chiu
(10/28/2009 7:12:00 PM) |
We men are some rough people, but then again I completely agree with his idea of a 'man'. This poem was written with great wisdom, true understanding of the behavior of people, and has been and always will be one of my favorite poems.
It's some of the best advice that I've ever heard.
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Abby Wall
(10/28/2009 10:53:00 AM) |
Please don't hate me great poetry people, but I have often thought that it takes a certain kind of person to like Kipling's work. I find most of his pieces a little bit too nonsensical (? ?) But I do like this one quite a lot. It works very well.
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Indira Renganathan
(10/28/2009 9:29:00 AM) |
Marvelous advice.....this poem will stand immortal, I'm sure.....
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Emma Adamyan
(10/28/2009 7:47:00 AM) |
This poem deserves the best words and only in superlative form. the most intelligent, the most modest, the wisest of all and sdo true. it has its class!
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