Mother Lode,
it's the biggest vein in the mine.
The one men search their
whole life to find.
What makes them do it?
Necessity, greed or pride?
Their only hope is
that they find.
They pan that gold
in the west.
The one that wins is
better than the rest.
The search for 'Mother Lode, '
goes on still.
When will it stop?
'It never will! '
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem