Holding one's stride, and projecting it
Javelin-like, upright and straight
Virtue will, of its olypian wreath
For god-likeness decorate.
In life, as any sportive contest
Howled down, and heckled off course
Good aims alone no glory attained
But a motivating force.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem