Jorg Luis Borges, the Argentine poet.........

You've probably seen on the Google home page that it is his 112th birthday today;  here is one of his quotes and a sweetish poem. I think I have blogged a poem by him in a previous post but my Google (blog) Search button is not working for me. Perhaps some kind soul could check and see if it works for you? My new computer has a mind of it's own, has teamed up with Google Blogger and both seem intent on forbidding.

Anyone else hate Windows 7?

The truth is that we live out our lives putting off all that can be put off; perhaps we all know deep down that we are immortal and that sooner or later all men will do and know all things.

Jorge Luis Borges (1899-1986), Argentinian author. "Funes the Memorious," Labyrinths (1964).

Anyone else had that feeling?

Here is the poem. 

Instants



If I could live again my life,

In the next - I'll try,

- to make more mistakes,

I won't try to be so perfect,

I'll be more relaxed,

I'll be more full - than I am now,

In fact, I'll take fewer things seriously,

I'll be less hygienic,

I'll take more risks,

I'll take more trips,

I'll watch more sunsets,

I'll climb more mountains,

I'll swim more rivers,

I'll go to more places - I've never been,

I'll eat more ice creams and less (lime) beans,

I'll have more real problems - and less imaginary

ones,

I was one of those people who live

prudent and prolific lives -

each minute of his life,

Of course that I had moments of joy - but,

if I could go back I'll try to have only good moments,
If you don't know - thats what life is made of,

Don't lose the now!
I was one of those who never goes anywhere

without a thermometer,

without a hot-water bottle,

and without an umberella and without a parachute,
If I could live again - I will travel light,

If I could live again - I'll try to work bare feet

at the beginning of spring till

the end of autumn,

I'll ride more carts,

I'll watch more sunrises and play with more children,

If I have the life to live - but now I am 85,

- and I know that I am dying ...



Jorge Luis Borges

Anyone else think this poem reminds them of another one?