A group of children numbering sixteen
Waiting for a race to begin and keen
To run it full and win it clean
And to get hold of the cup kept in a shining sheen
The race began with a shot on air
All started running and all in fair
All in their respective lanes and like a hare
Some ahead for sometime and others too fare
The crowd in excitement shouting to enthuse
The kids to keep up their spirit in muse
All seemingly fine and their efforts in full use
But, suddenly a kid fell on the track as a refuse
What a surprise, all the rest stopped the race
They ran to the kid in distress to get him the original pace
They did everything to help him keep up the chase
Spectators wondering with no idea as to whom to praise
A kid made a signal and others understood
The rest fifteen just lifted the kid like a log of wood
And ran the race, which was no longer a race, but a togetherhood
By the time they reached the finish the wounded soldier himself stood
Believe, it was race for and among children challenged
Physically and psychologically, but they changed
The entire race into a collective effort and rearranged
The very mindset of the crowd disarranged
What drove the children to help a kid in distress
Is nothing but human love which cannot see others in stress
Others' concerns, we, strong in all respects, need to address
Even if it amounts our losing a race, as love is a precious dress
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem