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 all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath 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

要是你是唯一的脑筋键在者

而周围的人都没了自己的还反责与你，

如果只剩下你一个人信赖自己

当所有的人都反之而且为此郑振有词，

假如你能够等待并为等待而乐之不疲，

要么，你为谎言所中却熟视无睹；

或者，你被人仇恨却没有返而恨之，

你既不报以大度的脸色也无解嘲的言语，

如果你能够做梦却不为梦想而左右，

要是你可以思考却不为思考而思考；

假如你能面对辉煌之神，也敢正视灾难之星，

而且在两者面目不清时一视同仁，

要是你能够容忍你道出的真言

被下贱小人饶舌成欺骗傻瓜的陷阱，

或者容忍你一生所成瞬间被毁，

还要，委下身来用早已破旧的工具从头筑之；

如果你敢于把一生所得汇成一起

更敢于一掷而赌之，

输之，人生再始于原点

从此，毫无怨言，

假如你能够重振你的心神精力为之一博

虽然此时你早已没有了心神精力可言，

而且你毫不放弃虽然此时你身心已空

只有你的意志之声还在呼喊“挺住！”

要是你能够与凡人言语而不失高贵品质，

或者与王者同行而不忘百姓之情，

如果你无法被死敌或亲朋友坑害；

假如人人都重视你但并不过头，

要是你能够自如应付无情的一分钟

用之以整整六十秒钟的冲刺，

那么，这个地球和其上的一切都为你所有，

在这一切之外-我的儿子，你才是一个男人！

--Rudyard Kipling