When you're the first, when you're on top,
consider that almighty drop
you risk if you should ever trip,
so tense yourself and get a grip.
It's awful lonely at the peak,
but that's what happens when you seek
fame and all that's glorious -
when you must be victorious.
Why do you set out to vanquish?
the rest of us, who tend to languish,
at the bottom of the heap
considering the climb too steep
to struggle for the highest prize,
who hold that though the cream may rise,
you also find a lot of scum
floats on the top. We take a crumb
of comfort from our lowly place -
not everyone can win the race,
and though foundations may be at the bottom
no tower ever stood that hasn't got ‘em.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem