There's something surely burning
When I get the yearning
To be better than I am.
There's a flicker of ambition
That spreads from my contrition
To be better than I am.
My temperature increases,
My spirit gets heat blisters,
I'll soothe them by improving.
I'll fan the flames with sorrow,
And the worries of tomorrow,
And burn away the waste.
When purged
I'll have the embers,
To ensure that I remember
What first ignited me
To be better than I am.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem