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A man is to be pitied when he lacks courage, when the challenge of freedom frightens him,
When he chooses to remain on the soft pillows of security, like a prisoner of his own comfort,
Watching life through the windows of others, without daring to step onto the ground of truth,
Forever a spectator of time, a traveler who never set out in search of his own destiny.
Life has bypassed him, like a river that flows endlessly past the shores of a petrified soul,
He has watched from a safe place, fearful of seeking brighter horizons,
He has waited for tomorrow to come, but tomorrow is a mirage, a chimera that never appears,
What has he done but sit and wait, in a silence that swallows unfulfilled dreams?
A man is to be pitied when he lets himself be stopped by fears that grow like shadows at dusk,
When he does not dare to spread his wings, to fly beyond the limits of the ordinary in which he hides,
When he does not see that true life is to embrace the unknown, to dance with the winds of change,
And not to settle for the illusion of a tomorrow that does not belong to you, but to live the present as a precious gift.

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