Convey my destiny
That to my door calls
And spread its wings free
Before Icarus falls
Profit prosper days
Those to the roads lie
Balance each the bays
The oceans and the sky
Like corn in wind sways
My fate is to and fro
And nothing ever stays
That really has to go
Up to heights - to win
Mount the climbing high
There is so much within
Or efforts will surely die
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem