Poem for the Weekend

Moments
If I could live my live anew,
I would try to make more mistakes.
I wouldn't try to be so perfect: I'd relax more.
I'd be sillier than I've been, and as a result
I'd take very few things seriously.
I'd be less hygienic. I'd take more risks
go on more journeys
contemplate more sunsets
climb more mountains
swim more rivers:
I'd go to more places where I've never been;
I'd eat more ice cream and fewer beans.
I'd have more real problems and fewer imaginary ones.
I was one of those people who lived every moment of his life consciously and prolifically:
of course, I had moments of happiness.
But if I could go back I'd try to have only good moments,
Because if you don't already know it, this is what life is made of –
it's made solely of good moments;
don't let the instant be lost.
I was one of those who never went anywhere without a thermometer, a thermos of hot water, an umbrella and a parachute;
If I could live my life again, I'd travel light.
If I could live my life again, I'd start going barefoot at the beginning of spring and I'd stay barefoot until the end of autumn.
I'd ride out in the buggy more often,
I'd get up early to watch more sunrises
and I'd play with more children,
if my life was ahead of me once more.
But, you see, I am eighty five years old and I know that I'm dying.

- Jorge Luís Borges. Translated by Martin Alexander.