I never sold a share that soared
to set a record high,
and then to tell of error bored
my friends with simp’ring sigh,
but turned my face and thank the Lord
I profit had come by.
To backward job I can’t afford,
so next time when I try
at pitch and toss to risk the cord,
Dame Fortune’s fame defy,
should it chance somewhere that I’m floored,
once bitten, then, twice shy!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem