Many a bush beaten round
we pass
many a fleeting thought
cast out
many men fear what they
cannot achieve
No good to ponder on the
nothing done.
Many a heavy heart
hath flown
beyond the realms of the
fruits unsown
No limp, no crutch can
every tarry
the speed we drift when we do
not carry.
yeah, ar aghaidh leat a bhuachaill, in ryanair veritas! ! ! : -)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Well crafted thought provoking poem.10.