Rudyard Kipling’s poem “If” is a classic. I have congratulated a number of high school graduates with graduation cards bearing that poem. A relative once told me that their son kept that graduation card on his study desk for many years. He is now a lawyer. But it never occurred to me that the poem is more for the upcoming. But there comes the inevitable, the twilight of the person’s later years.
A few days ago, I came across a poem titled “IF you shall become an old man”. The poem was by an Apologetic Poet who noted that, the poem he wrote is an adaptation of the poem IF by Rudyard Kipling.
I reproduced the Apologetic Poet’s “IF’ poem below, along with Rudyard Kiling’s “IF” and Mushegh Iskhhan’s superb translation of the poem. Vahe H Apelian
IF YOU SHALL BECOME AN OLD MAN
(An Adaptation of The Poem IF By RUDYARD KIPLING)
THE APOLOGETIC POET
If you can move without stumbling, with dignity intact,
While others rely on walkers, their steps compact;
If you can wait for family visits, patient and kind,
Even when emergencies are just an excuse to find;
Or resist the allure of dating, not feeling quite refined,
Yet still cherishing beauty within your mind.
If you can dress with care, without vanity's hold,
And write poetry, sharing stories yet untold;
If you can face Dementia and Alzheimer's embrace,
Fight against their grip, with courage and grace;
If you can bear repeated tales, fellow elders' plight,
Understanding the importance of sharing their light.
Or see your dreams shattered, and still believe,
That new beginnings await, if you choose to perceive;
If you can rebuild relationships, taking the lead,
Showing forgiveness, as you plant love's seed;
And hold fast to love, when passion's flame has ceased,
Embracing companionship, a bond that's not released.
If you can remain part of the crowd, hand in hand,
Or reside in a home, where connection still stands;
If neither forgotten birthdays, nor fading memories,
Can wound your spirit, for love's legacy still carries;
If you can sing and dance, with joyous glee,
Embodying the vitality of what it means to be free.
Then rejoice, dear elder, for you are ever agile,
A testament to strength, resilience, and your smile.
***
"If—"
is a poem by English poet Rudyard Kipling (1865–1936), written circa 1895 as a tribute to Leander Starr Jameson. It is a literary example of Victorian-era stoicism. The poem, first published in Rewards and Fairies (1910) following the story "Brother Square-Toes", is written in the form of paternal advice to the poet's son, John. (Wikipedia)
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![7]
***
Եթէ
Թարգմանեց Մուշէղ Իշխան
(Մուշեղ Ճենտերեճեան)
(1913 - Յունիս 12, 1990)
Եթէ կրնաս պահել գլուխդ առանձին,
Երբ խուճապի մէջ է չորս դիդ ամէն մարդ,
Եթէ կրնաս վստահ ըլլալ քու անձին,
Եթէ ուրիշներ կը կասկածին վրադ,
Եթէ կրնաս միշտ սպասել անձանձի,
Կամ չստել՝ շրջապատուած սուտերով,
Ատողներու մէջ ըլլալ սիրալիր,
Եթէ կրնաս ըլլալ բարի , բայց ուժով․
Եթէ կրնաս դուն երազել եւ սակայն
Չըլլալ գերին երազներուդ գերիշխող ,
Յաղթանակէն ետք հանդիպիլ պարտութեան
Եւ նո՛յն ձեւով ընդունիլ զոյգն այդ խաբող․
Եթէ կրնաս լսել քու խօսքդ վճիտ
Չարափոխուած յիմարներու ծուղակի
Ու խորտակուած տեսնել մեծ երկը կեանքիդ,
Բայց վերստին զայն շինելու գաս ծունկի․
Եթէ կրնաս շահը հազար ճիգերու,
Մէկ հարուածով յանձնել բախտի սեղանին
Եւ անտրտունջ, առանց երբեք ողբալու
Վերսկսիլ ծայրէն ամէն ինչ կրկին,
Եթէ կրնաս սիրտ ու ջիղեր ու մկան
Մաշումէն ետք նորէն լարել անդադար
Եւ դիմանալ, երբ մեռած է ամէն բան
Բացի կամքէն, որ կը մնայ մէջդ վառ.
Եթէ կրնաս արքաներու հետ ՝ պարզուկ,
Ամբոխին մէջ՝ առաքինի ըլլալ միշտ,
Եթէ թաղես կրքի րոպէն վաղանցուկ,
Եթէ մարդիկ անզօր են քեզ առթել վիշտ
Եւ ամէն ուն կուտաս արժէքն իր արդար ,
Եթէ սիրես, բայց սիրոյդ խենթ չդառնաս․
Քու՛կդ է Երկիրն ու իր գանձերն անհամար
Եւ աւելին՝ այն ատեն Մա՛րդ ես, տղաս։
