He's called so bold,
I feel he willingly even moulds.
Tackling with those gruelling times,
Witnessing those dramatic mines.
He's called so proud,
I wonder why they expect just appropriateness from his mouth.
Engaging with the stuff around,
Weighing the perfectness in his own sound.
He's called so hostile,
I question that is he just being your patriarch at his side.
Caring for a sister,
Showing benevolence to his parents is another task for him to master.
He's called so worthy,
I say there's much in him; for he stands so tall in everybody.
Experiencing the life,
Pillaring all that is been into his chosen drive.
He's called so strong,
I wonder about all those he longs.
The guides of his,
The ones who made so, not to miss.
He's called so apt,
I applaud all that for he is into the truthful facts.
The jobs so infinite,
Nothing in that era, ever finite.
Jack of all,
Master of all,
The Patriarch has dozens in his mall,
The side is never at all small.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem