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O que diz o famoso poema da “Center Court” de Wimbledon – If

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Quantas vezes já não ouvimos falar da famosa frase de um poeta não tão conhecido entre nós, Rudyard Kipling, que está escrita na entrada dos jogadores para a Center Court de Wimbledon?

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Já lemos a frase algumas vezes, muitas delas citadas por jogadores que se emocionam ou se inspiram nela ao pisar na quadra mais “sagrada” do tênis mundial.

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“If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster and treat those two impostors just the same” – é o que está escrito na entrada da quadra.

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Outro dia visitando o Lawn Tennis Museum, em Wimbledon, me deparei com essa frase e fiquei com ela na cabeça.

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Queria saber o que mais dizia o poema e quem era o tal Rudyard Kipling.

Curiosamente, como boa parte da população hoje residente na Inglaterra, Kipling nasceu na Índia e foi para o Reino Unido ainda jovem. Viveu entre Bombai e Londres e em 1907 ganhou o Prêmio Nobel da Literatura.

O famoso poema “If,” foi escrito em 1895 no capítulo “Brother Square Toes,” do livro “Rewards and Fairies,” que muito remetem ao período vitoriano da história britânica.

Emu ma biografia póstuma – Something to Myself – , publicada em 1937, um ano após a sua morte, Kipling diz que se inspirou no Dr. Leander Starr Jameson, para escrever o poema mais famoso do tênis. Jameson liderou os ingleses contra os Boeres na África do Sul. Os britânicos perderam a batalha, acabaram levando à segunda guerra dos Boeres, mas Jameson foi retratado, mesmo na derrota, como um herói no meio do desastre. A derrota acabou de tornando uma vitória para os britânicos.

Aqui está a versão completa de “If,” by Rudyard Kipling

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 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!

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