The one holding all the cards in the art of love
and war never chooses to fight
For he surmises that fight without losing lives,
is the only one worth while.
A coward he is not, a strategical general he is.
He knows when hes beaten
And he knows when hes won
He never lets arrogance get the best of him
Or whims of a fancy mislead
He boosts moral any way he can
He is king in his men heart
He wears the worst cloths of the lot
Knowing only of what he needs not
When the enemy here's his name they either flee
Or become traitor to their own
Switching sides under the cover of night
They say cheers him as hes alright
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem