The first three minutes,
Seem inconsequential,
Yet here lies the balance,
Between life and death.
The line is threadlike,
An imaginary borderline;
Which will spell victory,
Or defeat, or extinction.
The first three minutes,
Will finally make or break,
When treasured life is lost,
There is no recovery.
So value these three minutes,
These short gasps of breath;
They will always be there,
To challenge life's spear.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem