I was worried that my feet,
Where they stood,
Would not meet
With the road,
And the world, in receipt,
Would be slow
To complete
My shadow.
I began to gain strength
From the move,
And at length,
I improved,
And the world as it went
Was in bloom,
And correctly
Perfumed.
I was harried, once again,
As the far
Horizon
Went astray,
But the world, in defence,
Led the way
To the end
Of the day.
I outran every scene,
And the space
In-between
All the waste,
‘Til the world was serene,
And my place
In its scheme
Finely paced.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem