I looked high
And I looked low.
I could not tell
Which way to go.
Inside, my heart
Was full of fear.
Far too long
I tarried there.
Each way seemed
A pleasant one
On which to walk
On which to run.
One thing I noticed
As I looked;
The low way had
A gurgling brook,
Lush green trees
Green bushes grew
And happy birds
More than a few.
The high way though
Had soaring peaks
To climb them would
Take many weeks
The snow-capped giants
Bedecked with trees
Beckoned me
To take my ease
Not for my life then
Did I know
Which path to take
Which way to go.
Then of a sudden
I spied him there
A crippled boy
In deep despair
Calling out with
His shrill voice
'Please help me! '
I knew my choice.
A second thought
I did not think
I ran to the boy
There on the brink
I scooped the boy
Up to my breast
Then he replied
To my behest
'How came thee to
Be here today
At just this time
On just this day? '
His answer was
A simple one,
'Oh, dear father,
I'm your son.'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem