the real balls are the physiques
which are filled full with the air of desire
ever ready to spring to action
to show their invincibilities
for a patriotic goal
they can gravitate in a million ways
grab, pounce, shove, slip, slide, glide,
sommersault, slither, twist and turn
and even with legs up when it comes to
giving that grabber at the pitch
a slip of his responsibility
the real field are the million things
the ball can get the mind to conjure,
a green plain of fascinations, and
inspirations, longings charged up
by the million of fans that send
hearts aflutter with wild ecstasies
when every nerve a burning passion
ball rolling, dashing, swirling to a goal
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
hearts to ecstasies, good one, thanks.