Throw me a brick,
and I will catch a pellet,
throw me a mountain,
and I will catch a stone,
I will tramp on the hills,
as the marked road of market place,
I will swim the Oceans,
as the cooling waters of bathing tub,
the forest is non to me,
but the vegetables of backyard garden,
the den of lions as set,
non but a cage of petting cats,
give me your all,
and I will take it everytime.
I may struggle, I may stumble,
fall may never be broken,
and as Anteaus on defeat's sands,
I shall rise and rise again.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I may struggle, I may stumble, fall may never be broken, and as Anteaus on defeat's sands, I shall rise and rise again. Wow, well penned. I love this poem. To the point.