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 about 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 trun 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 - witch is more - you'll be a Man, my son!
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 about 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 trun 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 - witch is more - you'll be a Man, my son!
Удачи!)))