Scoutisme de Baden-Powell |
Ce poème fut écrit en 1910, à l'intention
de son fils, John, alors âgé de 12 ans.
John mourut lors de la 1ère guerre mondiale.
Ce poème a été traduit par plusieurs auteurs. Celle qui suit est d'André Maurois, en 1918.
Si : Tu seras un homme, mon fils
Si tu peux voir détruit l'ouvrage de ta vieIf 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 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! |
Mis à jour / révisé le 30-04-2009
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