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Life is constant adaptation
or there is no future. Listen: 
life is to be other and other and
yet another constantly
so that for the chameleon
and sepia this means mimesis; 
for the eagle it only remains more 
speed and more angulations, 
that man is enough in cheating.
Life is a collection of opportunities, 
if you lose them, you're lost.                
 
                    This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
 
                    