We stand on our two feet, before that we crawl.
There is no motivation to stand,
Apart from mom and dad's call.
From the day we stand we have stood.
We inherited the earth in all her moods.
We stoop, we beg, we bow down, upon our will.
Through barbed wires in trenches we crawl on our will.
The skill of standing was an trigger to another self made yearning.
To leave the rocks, and be firm of on your soul,
As it evolves change your stance,
Lest you fall back on the rocks.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem