The road may lead a thousand miles.
It seems absurd; it's not my style.
But there's one way to best a trial:
Before you run, you first must crawl.
You can't look back; you heed the call.
You fix your gaze and set your jaw.
The tortoise who obeys these laws
Will beat the hare with mock pizzazz.
With every juncture that you pass
Your progress will surprise at last.
The point is, though my rhymes may clash,
They've traced a thousand-mile path.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem