This mountain has grown
right over my head,
It keeps me awake,
When I'm lying in bed.
But I will climb it,
I will not loose hope,
I have my pick axe,
my boots and my rope.
One step at a time.
Do not stop counting.
Never loose hope
You will tackle your mountain.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem