A pebble - tossed into a pond - can boast
A little power. The force within one stone
Producing tiny waves upon its host.
The transformed surface - how reactive prone!
But soon this power will pass. When ripples cease
To flow. The waters, not unlike before,
Suggest a tranquil - yet a tepid - peace.
The dormant pebble hides upon the floor.
But 'neath the stagnant pond, the pebble waits.
For it's greatest strength appears while submerged.
It may take time, but it will fulfill its fate
When many pebbles, stones, and rocks converge
To form a mountain that grows up beyond
The tepid surface of once reactive pond.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A great poem with great meaning. One day the mountain will grow.