I stand at the top of a glistening hill
Staring down it's shining slope
With my board beneath my feet
I am the master of my fate
I exhale anxiously, sliding forward
I am off! Down the daunting path
The wind whistles through my hair
My eyes fixed on the ramp
I crash! Flying forth from my board
I tumble through the damp snow
Laughing and shouting, I stand up
And return to the top from where I came
I try again and again, each time crashing
Growing frustrated and focused
I start up again and fly quickly now
Knees bent and back leaned, I hit the ramp
I soar! And for a split second, I swear
I am no longer a man, but a bird
Flying above this glistening hill
And once again I start up the slope
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem