There is a game as old as dare
That when it's drawn as square
Or included a few circle shapes
Depending on your survival takes
The game require many hops
And has many many stops
Over perils financial and health
Reckless or by planned stealth
It's all but merely just a game
But it has a rule all the same
Future helping hands so wide
For your perils bridge with glide
Somehow were held so steady
When to help you were ready
Help others their honour to keep
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Beautiful poem! It makes me think of Maya Angelou's Harlem Hopscotch...