I know that when I get to the top
there is just another mountain
but still I refuse to hang from this spike
and listen for the sound of my last breath
I have risen just enough to die on my decsent
and looking up offers only a steady climb
I can't even see temporary relief from here
It must be beyond those clouds
Still I climb for the climb and only the climb
and I understand that if I make one poor step
or if I take the wrong path up this great face
my legacy is, at best, that of someone who tried
No, no, don't stop to look as I sway or teter
Don't lend your hand to help if you see me slip
Watch me struggle, maybe I will succeed on my own
If you give your hand I promise I will pull you down too
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem