Many a bush beaten round 
we pass
many a fleeting thought
cast out
many men fear what they
cannot achieve 
No good to ponder on the 
nothing done.
Many a heavy heart 
hath flown
beyond the realms of the 
fruits unsown
No limp, no crutch can
every tarry
the speed we drift when we do
not carry.                
yeah, ar aghaidh leat a bhuachaill, in ryanair veritas! ! ! : -)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Well crafted thought provoking poem.10.