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Living is no joke,
you must live with great seriousness
like a squirrel for example,
I mean expecting nothing except and beyond living,
I mean living must be your whole occupation.
You must take living seriously,
I mean to such an extent that,
for example your arms are tied from your back, your back is on the wall,
or with your huge eye glasses,
in a laboratory with your white shirt
you must be able to die for people,
even for people you have never seen,
although nobody forced you to do this,
although, the most beautiful, the most real thing,
you know that, living is.
I mean you must take living so seriously that,
even when you are seventy, you must plant olive trees,
not because you think they will be left to your children,
because you don’t believe in death although you are afraid of it
because, I mean, life weighs heavier.
Suppose we’re very sick, in need of surgery,
I mean, from the white table,
there is the possibility that we will never get up.
although it is impossible not to feel the grief of passing away somewhat too soon
we will still laugh at the funny joke being told,
we will look out of the window to see if it’s raining,
or we will wait impatiently
for the latest news.
Suppose, for something worth fighting for,
suppose we are at the front.
Over there, in the first attack, on the first day
with face downward, we may die.
We will know this with a somewhat curious anger,
but we will still worry along
at the outcome of the war, which will possibly last for years.
Suppose we are in the jail,
age is close to fifty,
suppose there are still eighteen years until the iron door will open.
Still, we will live with the outer world,
with the people, animals, fights and winds
I mean, with the outer world beyond the walls.
I mean, however and wherever we are
as if there is no death, we must live.
This earth will grow cold,
a star among all the stars,
and one of the tiniest,
I mean a grain of glitter on blue velvet,
I mean this huge world of ours.
This earth will grow cold one day,
not even like a pile of ice
or like a dead cloud,
like an empty walnut it will roll
in the pure endless darkness.
You must feel the pain of this now,
You must feel the grief right now.
You must love this world so much
to be able to say I lived…