In the diamond the tension rises,
Any mistake could lead to crisis.
The batter goes up to home plate,
Fielders get ready to be slayed.
The pitcher pounces, a lion for prey,
While the batter stares in ultimate dismay.
A fast ball comes, the batter swings,
The pong of the ball on the long bat rings.
Fielders nod, it's a nice strike, they reckon.
But the ball passes them and the batter reaches second.
One team cheers as the other team weeps,
This is really what softball seeks.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.