When you're in a race
And the rats are winning,
And you feel your blood
Begin to boil;
When the pressure's up
And the chips are down;
When you're tired from all
The strife and toil...
There's no secret trick to winning.
In your hand you hold an ace.
Just remember when beginning-
Slow and steady wins the race.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem